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OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

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John  Van  Buren 
Politician 

A  Novel  of  To-day 


Harper  &  Brothers    Publishers 

New  York  and  London 
I  905 


Copyright,  1904,  1905,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 


.-///  rights  rest  Tied. 

Published  March,  1905. 


John    Van    Buren,  Politician 


743-18^1 


John  Van  Buren^  Politician 


[OHN  VAN  BUREN  strolled  from  his 
law-office  on  Main  Street,  Schenectady, 
to  the  New  York  Central  Station.  It 
was  time  for  the  accommodation  train 
for  Albany,  and  the  June  day  was  too 
bright  and  cheerful  for  him  to  sit  longer  alone.  The 
need  of  looking  up  authorities  at  the  library  of  the 
State  Bar  Association  in  the  Capitol  was  a  sufficient 
excuse,  and  there  would  be  time  to  drop  in  at  the  Hol- 
land Club  for  a  game  of  pool  and  a  Regent's  cocktail. 
As  the  train  stopped  he  stepped  out  on  the 
platform.  It  was  not  the  regular  accommodation, 
but  the  first  section  of  a  series  of  special  trains 
carrying  the  returning  Tammany  delegation  back 
to  New  York  from  the  National  Convention.  The 
special  was  made  up  of  twelve  sleepers  and  one 
private  car ;  the  sleepers  were  old  and  dingy,  almost 
too  worn  out  to  be  damaged  further,  while  the  pri- 
vate car  was  that  of  the  vice-president  of  the  road. 
There  was  no  mistaking  the  contents  of  the  train. 
The  cars,  except  the  private  car,  were  placarded 
like  a  circus  with  muslin  banners  from  end  to  end, 


John    Van    Btiren,    Politician 

announcing  in  bright-colored  letters  that  this  was 
the  Tammany  Hall  Special,  with  the  2d,  7th,  8th, 
19th  and  2ist  districts  on  board.      * 

As  the  train  waited,  while  the  conductor  was  sign- 
ing the  order-book,  Van  Buren  looked  it  over  with 
great  interest.  A  Democrat  by  inheritance  and 
conviction,  he  had  always  taken  an  active  part  in 
local  politics,  both  at  the  primaries  and  conven- 
tions and  on  the  stump.  But  he  had  never  seen  a 
Tammany  crowd  except  at  one  State  convention  at 
Saratoga,  where  he  was  an  alternate  seated  in  the 
rear  of  the  convention  hall,  and  some  one  had  point- 
ed out  to  him  the  grizzled  boss  sitting  on  one  of 
the  front  aisle  seats  with  the  Tammany  delegates 
in  rows  behind  him.  Like  all  country  politicians, 
he  knew  of  Tammany  through  the  newspapers,  es- 
pecially from  the  cartoons,  which  had  done  more  to 
fix  his  notions  than  the  printed  text.  All  that  he 
had  read  was  in  opposition,  and  somewhat  owing  to 
the  tendency  of  his  legal  training  to  look  at  both 
sides  of  the  case,  the  fact  that  all  he  had  heard  of 
Tammany  was  bad  led  him  to  seek  for  the  reasons 
for  its  strength  and  power,  and  to  argue  with  himself 
that  there  must  be  another  side  to  such  an  organi- 
zation or  it  would  not  so  long  exist  in  strength. 

** Schenectady,"  shouted  a  loud-voiced  man 
decked  with  badges,  and  at  his  call  the  band  in  the 
last  car  struck  up  "It's  Fourteen  Miles  from  Sche- 
nectady to  Troy."  The  loungers  around  the  station 
gathered  at  the  sound  of  the  band,  and  the  small 
boys  of  the  neighborhood  scrambled  for  the  pennies 
and  nickels  thrown  from  the  car  windows.  From 
out  the  cars  came  handfuls  of  cigars  thrown  to  the 

2 


John   Van    Baren,    Politician 

older  loungers,  and  a  lot  of  empty  bottles.  The 
small  boys  more  boldly  climbed  up  the  car  steps 
to  beg  for  badges  like  those  pinned  on  the  frock- 
coats  of  the  passengers,  a  celluloid  tiger's  head  with 
a  blue-ribbon  banneret  labelled  ''Tammany  Hall." 
The  men  on  this  car  were  as  novel  a  sight  to  the 
Schenectady  small  boy  as  the  circus.  They  wore 
either  frock-coats  or  linen  dusters  with  high  silk 
hats,  with  an  array  of  diamond  studs  and  huge 
horseshoe  scarf-pins.  Many  of  them  had  been 
drinking,  but  they  did  not  show  the  liquor  in  the 
manner  of  the  Schenectadians  on  a  drunk,  but  with 
much  less  disorder  and  noise  and  no  sense  of  novelty. 

"Hello,  Van  Buren!"  a  voice  called  out  to  him 
from  the  platform  of  the  private  car.  ''  Come  down 
to  see  the  train  come  in?" 

''  I  came  down  to  take  a  train  to  Albany,"  replied 
Van  Buren. 

"Come  up  here;  you  are  a  Democrat,  and  I  want 
to  introduce  you  to  some  of  my  Democratic  friends. 
The  boys  will  be  glad  to  see  you.  You  may  as  well 
go  as  far  as  Albany  with  us.  I  will  introduce  you 
to  the  boss ;  it  won't  do  you  any  harm,  and  it  might 
do  you  good." 

The  speaker  was  an  old  political  friend,  Assembly- 
man Wilson,  of  Schoharie  Coimty,  the  member  of  the 
Democratic  State  Committee  from  the  district  which 
included  Schenectady. 

"  What  are  you  doing  with  this  Tammany  crowd  ?" 
asked  Van  Buren  as  he  stepped  on  board. 

"  Mr.  Coulter  asked  me  to  come  back  from  the 
convention  as  his  guest,  and  I  am  going  down  to 
the  city  for  a  few  days.     Better  come  along  the 

3 


John    Van    Barcnt    Politician 

whole  way.  Yoii  haven't  any  business  to  keep  you 
this  time  of  year.  We  will  stop  at  the  Hoffman 
and  come  back  Sunday." 

"I  think  I  shall,"  said  Van  Buren.  "I  should 
greatly  like  to  meet  Mr.  Coulter.  I  never  saw  him 
but  once,  and  I  have  always  been  curious  to  know 
what  kind  of  a  man  he  really  is.  Politics  in  New 
York  is  different  from  what  it  is  with  us.  They  seem, 
somehow,  to  win  oftener  than  we  do,  and  I  would  like 
to  find  out  how  they  do  it." 

The  train  had  started  before  Wilson  and  Van 
Buren  shook  hands.  They  walked  together  into 
the  main  room  of  the  private  car.  The  occupants 
of  this  car  were  very  dift'erent  in  manners  and 
appearance  from  the  frock-coated,  diamond-stud- 
ded crowd  that  had  been  passing  nickels  and  cigars 
to  the  station  loafers.  Seated  in  a  comer  reading 
a  French  novel.  Van  Buren  recognized  a  Harv^ard 
man,  who  had  spent  part  of  the  fortune  he  had  in- 
herited to  be  elected  to  Congress.  On  the  divan 
were  two  members  of  the  Knickerbocker  Club.  A 
famous  author  was  talking  to  the  big  contractor,  a 
man  whose  father  was  a  ditch-digger  and  shovelled 
ballast  on  the  ties  of  the  railroad  of  which  his  son 
is  president.  Playing  dominoes  at  a  little  table  were 
a  district  leader  and  a  partner  in  one  of  the  big  de- 
partment stores.  There  were  no  bottles  visible, 
except  some  mineral  water  on  the  domino -table. 
The  mayor  of  New  York  was  smoking,  occasionally 
exchanging  a  word  with  a  justice  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  who  was  watching  the  domino  game.  He 
was  noticeable  only  as  being  the  most  carefully 
dressed  man  in  the  car. 


John    Van    Btiren,    Politician 

Near  the  table  sat  a  grizzly-bearded  man,  looking 
over  telegrams  through  a  pair  of  eye-glasses  that 
kept  falling  off.  He  wore  a  dark-blue  suit,  double- 
breasted,  and  so  closely  buttoned  that  his  drawn-in 
chin  met  his  coat  collar.  His  beard  was  gray  in 
patches,  his  skin  was  a  yellow-gray,  and  his  eyes 
were  a  blue-gray.  Sitting,  he  looked  taller  than 
standing,  and  more  at  ease.  The  squareness  of  the 
cut  of  the  double-breasted  coat  added  to  the  square- 
ness of  the  head,  and  most  of  all  to  the  jaw. 

"The  boss  likes  young  men,"  said  Wilson,  as  he 
led  up  Van  Buren,  ''and  he  is  trying  to  strengthen 
his  power  through  the  State."  Mr.  Coulter  looked 
up  rather  listlessly  as  Van  Buren  was  being  intro- 
duced. When  he  heard  the  name  his  manner  be- 
came cordial. 

"Did  I  catch  your  name  rightly — Van  Buren?" 
asked  the  boss,  with  a  pleasant  smile,  as  they  shook 
hands. 

"Van  Buren  is  my  name." 

"A  good  American  name,  and  an  historical  one. 
Of  course,  you  are  a  Democrat?" 

"I  am,  indeed." 

**  I  knew  one  of  your  family,  a  stanch  Democrat, 
a  great  lawyer,  and  a  great  favorite  in  New  York. 
I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  follow  in  his  footsteps." 

"  It  won't  be  for  want  of  ambition." 

"What  is  your  profession?" 

"Law." 

"Ever  done  anything  in  politics?" 

"I  was  district  attorney  one  term,  and  I  have 
always  tried  to  do  what  I  could  for  the  party." 

"That's   good.     We   need   young  men.     In   the 

5 


John   Van    Btircn,    Politician 

city  they  come  to  us,  but  we  don't  seem  to  be  get- 
ting them  up  the  State.  Why  is  it  ?  Why  don't  you 
and  Mr.  Wilson  here  give  us  another  assemblyman 
this  fall,  and  a  State  senator  next  year?" 

"To  be  frank  with  you,  Mr.  Coulter,  we  are  losing 
our  hold.  Schenectady  was  a  strong  Democratic 
county,  and  it  is  drifting  away  from  us.  The  men 
in  the  shops  are  Republicans,  and  while  they  are 
making  gains,  we  do  not  even  hold  our  young  men. 
Somehow  the  Republican  party  has  the  name  of 
being  the  American  party  and  has  the  issues  for 
the  young  men,  and  then  money  is  coming  in  more 
and  more  at  elections,  and  we  don't  have  it.  And, 
if  you  won't  mind  frankness,  we  country  Democrats 
are  held  responsible  for  all  the  sin  and  iniquity 
charged  to  Tammany  Hall.  These  legislative  in- 
vestigations hurt  us  with  the  church  people,  and 
the  American  cry  is  urged  to  oppose  the  so-called 
Irish  domination  of  Tammany.  With  all  respect 
to  you,  Mr.  Coulter,  Tammany  is  our  heaviest  load." 

Van  Buren  checked  himself,  feeling  that  he  was 
going  too  far,  and  was  about  to  take  advantage  of 
the  approach  of  others  to  turn  away. 

The  boss  stopped  him.  ''Young  man,  what  the 
Democratic  party  needs  up  the  State  is  organization 
and  aggressive  tactics.  Stand  together  and  hit  your 
opponents.  Strike  first,  and  keep  on  pounding. 
Keep  them  on  the  defensive.  In  politics  the  de- 
fensive loses.  I  have  heard  other  up-the-State  men 
talk  like  you.  Join  Tammany  Hall  and  see  for 
yourself  what  it  is.  Pay  us  a  visit  and  study  our 
methods.  We  want  to  carry  the  State  this  fall,  and 
we  should  give  our  Democratic  governor  a  Demo- 

6 


John   Van    Btircn^    Politician 

cratic  legislature.  Whether  we  do  it  or  not  depends 
on  you  young  men  up  the  State." 

For  Mr.  Coulter  this  was  a  long  speech,  and  every 
one  in  the  car  within  the  sound  of  his  voice  looked 
with  respectful  curiosity  on  Van  Buren,  who,  with- 
out noticing  the  attention  Mr.  Coulter's  remarks 
had  caused,  replied: 

"  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Coulter.  I  shall  be  glad  to 
avail  myself  of  your  kind  offer.  I  have  always  re- 
garded Tammany  Hall  as  the  most  perfect  political 
organization  in  the  country.  And  I  should  regard 
it  as  a  privilege  to  note  the  methods  of  it  at  first 
hand." 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on  a  short, 
thick-set  man,  with  a  mustache  so  shiningly  black 
that  it  seemed  to  be  dyed,  but  was  not,  and  a  dia- 
mond stud  that  looked  too  big  to  be  real,  but  was, 
came  into  the  room  and  walked  over  to  where  the 
boss  sat.    Assemblyman  Wilson  and  he  shook  hands. 

'*  Here  is  a  man,  Van  Buren,  who  will  show  you 
the  ropes — Judge  Murphy,  leader  of  the  second  dis- 
trict, where  they  can  run  seven  Democrats  for  alder- 
men, and  the  Republican  will  be  last  at  that." 

*'Glad  to  meet  you,  Mr.  Van  Buren,"  said  Judge 
Murphy,  beaming  with  pleasure  at  the  recognition 
of  his  greatness  by  a  rural  assemblyman.  "  Glad 
to  see  you  in  my  court.  Any  favors  I  can  do  for 
you  or  any  of  your  friends,  always  glad  to  oblige." 

**You  couldn't  be  in  better  hands,"  added  Mr. 
Coulter.  ''Take  him  along,  judge,  and  show  him 
how  we  get  the  young  men  with  us." 


II 


(Y  this  time  Albany  was  reached,  and 
while  the  engines  were  changing  Van 
Buren  got  out  and  telegraphed  to  his 
mother  that  he  had  gone  to  New  York 
and  would  not  be  back  until  Sunday. 
The  rank  and  file  swarmed  out  of  the  cars  and  made 
a  rush  for  the  afternoon  papers  and  the  results  of 
the  races.  Horses,  or  *'  ponies,"  as  they  were  called, 
were  the  subject  of  more  comment  than  the  con- 
vention, and  the  pedigrees  and  the  performances  of 
the  race-track  were  matters  of  minute  and  accurate 
knowledge  to  these  men,  not  one  in  a  hundred  of 
whom  could  have  given  the  names  of  the  presidents 
of  the  United  States  or  the  members  of  the  cabinet. 
Among  the  crowd  in  the  station  waiting-room  Van 
Buren  saw  an  old  political  friend  of  his  father's, 
Senator  Marlow,  who  now  occupied  the  seat  in  Con- 
gress which  Van  Buren's  father  had  filled  before 
he  resigned  to  go  as  minister  to  Germany  under 
President  Buchanan.  With  the  senator  was  his 
daughter.  Van  Buren  had  met  Mary  Marlow  be- 
fore at  occasional  Albany  dances,  although  he  had 
never  been  in  the  Marlow  house.  .  Van  Buren's 
mother  was  one  of  the  Albany  Schuylers,  bom  in 
the  old  house  on  South  Pearl  Street,  where  the 
marks  of  Indian  tomahawks  are  still  visible  on  the 

8 


John    Van    Btirent    Politician 

balusters,  and  her  Albany  friends  were  of  the  old 
families  fast  dying  out. 

Van  Buren  sought  to  pay  his  respects  to  the 
senator.  Miss  Marlow  bowed  in  recognition,  while 
Van  Buren  was  explaining  his  sudden  visit  to  New 
York.  It  was  the  first  time  Van  Buren  had  seen 
Miss  Marlow  by  daylight,  and  he  wondered  why  he 
had  never  before  noticed  how  remarkable  and  strik- 
ingly beautiful  was  her  red  hair. 

Returning  to  the  train,  Judge  Murphy  took  Van 
Buren  and  Wilson  back  to  his  delegation.  It  was  a 
contrast  to  the  private  car  where  Mr.  Coulter  and  the 
aristocracy  sat.  This  sleeper  was  turned  into  a  free 
bar  and  poker-room.  The  smoking-room  had  a  table- 
stakes  game,  and  in  the  main  body  of  the  car  there 
were  four  other  poker  games.  On  the  unoccupied 
seats  were  sleeping  men,  obviously  dreaming  off  the 
effects  of  too  much  dissipation.  Sandwiches  and 
beer  occupied  the  window-sills,  and  the  floor  was 
covered  with  cigar  stumps.  The  car  needed  fumi- 
gation. It  was  easy  to  understand  why  the  Wagner 
company  used  its  discarded  sleepers  for  convention 
parties.  The  air  was  so  heavy  and  stale  that  Van 
Buren  was  ready  to  follow  Judge  Murphy  into  his 
private  state-room.  Here  the  assemblyman  from  the 
second,  the  warden  of  the  city  prison,  and  the  super- 
intendent of  the  dumps,  who  comprised  the  inner 
circle  next  to  the  judge,  were  having  a  quiet  game. 

Wilson  already  knew  Assemblyman  Keegan,  hav- 
ing met  him  frequently  in  Albany.  The  judge  intro- 
duced everybody.  ''Let's  have  a  bottle,"  he  said, 
and  one  of  the  court  officers,  who  went  along  as  the 
judge's  private  attendant,  brought  out  a  quart  of 

9 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

champagne  and  poured  it  into  the  tumblers  filled 
with  ice. 

''Here's  to  you,  assemblymen,"  said  the  judge, 
turning  to  Wilson,  "and  may  there  be  many  more 
like  you  in  the  next  legislature  to  keep  our  boys 
company." 

"Thank  you,  judge;  if  you  would  only  spare  us  a 
few  of  your  captains  and  send  along  a  few  lodging- 
houses  we  might  do  better,"  replied  Wilson. 

Van  Buren  noticed  that  Assemblyman  Keegan  did 
not  touch  the  wine.  Judge  Murphy  took  his  like 
soda-water,  while  Superintendent  Finn  seemed  to 
think  his  was  medicine,  and  it  could  easily  be  seen 
that  he  would  have  preferred  a  schooner  of  beer. 

Van  Buren  had  often  heard  of  Judge  Murphy. 
Indeed,  it  is  likely  that  in  those  days  Judge  Murphy 
was  the  best-known  jurist  in  the  United  States. 
In  his  early  life  he  was  a  school-teacher,  and  all  his 
salary  went  over  the  bar,  with  the  result  that  he 
lost  his  place.  Growing  wiser,  he  went  into  the 
liquor  business  himself,  with  a  small  saloon  on  old 
Chatham  Street,  which  became  valuable  and  popular 
after  the  opening  of  Brooklyn  Bridge.  In  that 
neighborhood  it  is  necessary  for  every  liquor  dealer 
to  be  in  politics.  The  excise  law  puts  it  into  the 
hands  of  the  police  to  blackmail  him  or  close  his 
place,  and  in  self-defence  a  saloon-keeper  with  an 
all-night  trade  must  be  solid  enough  in  politics  to 
stand  off  the  police  captain  who  happens  to  pre- 
side there. 

As  Patrick  Murphy  rose  in  wealth  he  had  two 
ambitions:  one  to  be  alderman  and  the  other  to 
have  a  whole   house   to   himself.     Both   of   these 

lO 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

ambitions  had  been  attained  a  few  years  before,  but 
contentment  did  not  follow  and  he  next  wanted 
to  be  a  judge.  This  is  the  height  of  political  am- 
bition in  the  second  district,  that  historic  neigh- 
borhood where  Paradise  Park  has  supplanted  Five 
Points  and  Cherry  Hill  keeps  up  the  reputation  for 
riots  it  acquired  in  the  Revolution.  The  city 
prison  is  in  the  second  district,  and  what  greater 
glory  could  there  be  than  to  preside  over  the  prison 
police  court  and  favor  one's  friends  and  get  even 
with  one's  enemies,  for  the  major  part  of  the  district, 
at  one  time  or  another,  appears  in  some  capacity 
at  the  bar  of  police-court  justice. 

The  opportunity  had  come  at  the  last  mayoralty 
election.  Boss  Coulter  had  offered  a  banner  sur- 
mounted by  a  real  tiger's  head  to  the  district  giving 
his  candidate  for  mayor  the  biggest  majority.  There 
was  a  close  contest  between  the  boss's  own  district, 
the  mayor's  district,  and  the  second.  Thanks  to 
the  district  captained  by  Assemblyman  Keegan, 
which  returned  a  vote  of  486  to  i.  Judge  Murphy 
won  the  banner  and  the  stuffed  tiger's  head,  which 
were  proudly  displayed  in  the  club-house  parlor. 
What  more  natural  than  that  more  substantial 
recognition  should  follow,  and  Alderman  Murphy 
was  one  of  the  mayor's  early  appointments  to  the 
bench. 

Judge  Murphy  did  his  best  to  live  up  to  the  high 
honor,  which  no  one  appreciated  more  or  held 
higher.  He  ceased  to  wear  checked  clothes  and 
always  dressed  in  black  broadcloth;  nor  did  his 
ties  ever  vary  from  the  white  bow,  always  worn 
above  a  diamond   stud   as  large   as  a  three -cent 

II 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

piece.  From  his  patent-leather  shoes  to  his  waxed 
mustache  he  was  as  immaculate  as  could  be.  His 
habits  also  changed.  In  his  frequent  visits  of 
necessity  to  the  saloons  of  his  district,  in  several 
of  which  his  savings  and  aldermanic  accumulations 
were  invested,  he  never  took  anything  but  Apollin- 
aris  Water.  Of  course  he  treated  often  and  regular- 
ly, but  in  their  presence  the  judge  had  never  since 
his  elevation  to  the  bench  taken  any  intoxicating 
liquor.  At  the  district  club  and  in  the  up  -  town 
cafes  it  was  different. 

Van  Buren  had  seen  many  cartoons  of  Judge 
Murphy  —  the  short,  thick -set,  square -shouldered 
politician  of  the  comic  papers,  with  his  heavy,  waxed, 
black  mustache,  his  plastered  hair,  his  rotund 
abdomen  crossed  with  a  heavy  watch-chain  and 
diamond  charm,  his  fingers  more  ringed  than  a 
dowager's,  and  his  apparel  as  many-colored  as  a 
circus  poster. 

It  was  all  so  novel.  Somehow  it  reminded  him 
of  the  fairy  stories  of  his  boyhood,  and  how  he 
hoped  some  day  one  of  the  book  fairies  would  come 
to  him  and  take  him  around  to  where  Jack  the 
Giant  -  killer  lived  and  show  him  the  ogres.  He 
hoped  Judge  Murphy  would  change  the  black 
broadcloth  to  loud  checks,  so  that  the  resemblance 
would  be  accurate  throughout.  Then  he  would 
feel  that  he  had  at  last  really  met  a  man  who 
had  always  been  to  him  as  fabulous  as  Gog  and 
Magog. 

"  Wake  up,  Van  Buren,"  Wilson  interjected.  "  If 
you  want  to  study  real  politics  arrange  with  the 
judge  to  look  after  you.     He  is  the  winner  that 

12 


John   Van    Barcnt    Politician 

carries  the  tiger's  head,  and  what  he  can't  show  you 
isn't  worth  seeing." 

"  I  will  be  glad  to  do  that  very  thing,"  said  Judge 
Murphy.  ''This  isn't  election  time,  but  it's  politics 
every  day  with  us,  and  there  is  always  something 
doing  or  somebody  being  done,  which  is  the  same 
thing.  Fill  up  your  glass;  don't  be  afraid  of  it. 
It's  real." 

Everybody  except  Assemblyman  Keegan-  was 
consuming  the  wine  like  water.  That  was  Judge 
Murphy's  idea  of  the  highest  hospitality,  and  the 
district  was  proud  of  him  for  it.  They  thought  all 
the  more  of  him  for  his  taking  only  mineral  waters 
with  them  and  keeping  the  other  for  his  visitors. 

Outside  in  the  main  body  of  the  car  the  noises 
increased  as  the  card -playing  ceased  through  the 
constant  interruptions  of  One-eyed  Maloney  and 
Dinky  Dan  —  two  privileged  characters  without 
visible  means  of  support  who  had  not  missed  a  con- 
vention or  a  prize-fight  in  twenty  years.  Van 
Buren  did  not  understand  it.  He  had  seen  in- 
toxicated men  often  enough  before,  but  in  Schenec- 
tady they  did  it  differently. 

Judge  Murphy  introduced  Van  Buren  to  the 
crowd.  "Gentlemen,  my  young  friend,  Mr.  Van 
Buren,  the  learned  district  attorney  of  Schenectady, 
is  come  among  us  and  is  now  in  our  midst.  You 
will  all  be  proud  to  know  him.     He  is  one  of  us." 

This  was  greeted  with  applause  and  a  liquid 
health.  Assemblyman  Wilson  did  not  need  an 
introduction.  He  had  spoken  at  the  second  district 
club-house  the  night  the  stuffed  tiger's  head  was 
hung  on  the  parlor  wall,  and  he  recognized  most  of 

13 


John    Van    Btircnt    Politician 

those  present  as  members  of  the  committee  of 
arrangements  that  night. 

The  dayhght  was  growing  dim  and  the  PaHsades 
were  opposite  the  car  windows  when  Van  Buren 
reaHzed  that  he  had  been  drinking  too  much.  He 
had  never  been  in  a  crowd  hke  this  before,  and  he 
had  lost  track  of  his  capacity,  which  a  Hberal  college 
education  had  enabled  him  usually  to  gauge  with 
accuracy,  and,  besides,  champagne  was  neither  his 
usual  nor  favorite  beverage.  The  motion  of  the 
car  became  unpleasant  and  things  began  to  fade  and 
wobble  indistinctly.  Judge  Murphy  developed  into 
the  ogre  of  the  fairy  stories,  not  a  ferocious  ogre  of 
our  own  times,  but  an  amiable,  friendly  ogre  who 
was  going  to  give  him  the  secret  pass-word  to  enter 
the  back  door  of  the  castle  and  carry  off  the  beautiful 
maiden  in  a  flying-machine,  and  be  elected  to  the 
United  States  Senate,  and  live  happily  forever  after- 
wards amid  popular  acclaim  for  his  great  speech 
against  the  trusts  and  their  control  over  the  tariff. 
He  recognized  the  beautiful  maiden,  but  what  was 
she  doing  in  the  castle?  and  where  had  she  met 
Judge  Murphy?  and  why  was  Judge  Murphy  an 
ogre,  anyhow?  and  then  he  dropped  to  sleep. 

While  he  slept  he  had  a  curious  dream.  It  was 
morning  and  the  sun  was  rising.  His  arms  changed 
to  wings  and  he  was  testing  them  on  their  first 
flight.  They  were  different  from  ordinary  wings, 
for  they  had  the  power  to  carry  him  through  any- 
thing. He  had  flown  through  the  window  without 
opening  it,  and  the  wings  were  carrying  him  into 
Albany  right  to  Elk  Street,  where  he  flew  easily 
through  the  walls  of  the  ]\Iarlow  house  and  into  Miss 

14 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

Marlow's  room.  She  had  finished  her  bath  and  was 
dressing.  Her  purply  red  hair  hung  in  a  torrent 
below  her  waist.  It  was  the  most  beautiful  thing 
he  had  ever  seen,  more  dazzling  than  the  sun,  and 
as  he  fluttered  his  wings  the  red  strands  blew  to  and 
fro. 

Miss  Marlow  was  not  at  all  surprised  to  see  him, 
and  she  took  the  wings  as  a  matter  of  course. 

''I  expected  you,"  she  said. 

'Xome  with  me,"  he  replied;  "let  us  fly." 

''I  rarely  fly  before  breakfast,"  she  mildly  re- 
monstrated. 

"It's  such  a  pleasant  morning,"  he  pleaded. 

"Well,  but  I  must  be  back  in  half  an  hour,"  she 
consented. 

He  reached  out  his  hands  to  take  hers,  but  his 
hands  were  gone  and  he  only  fanned  her  with  his 
wings. 

"  I  should  think  you  would  prefer  to  have  hands 
and  arms,"  she  remarked,  with  a  smile. 

"  I  should.     I  don't  understand  this  at  all." 

"It  is  very  simple.  Everything  is  very  simple  if 
one  doesn't  complicate  it.  I  have  often  wanted  to 
fly.     How  am  I  to  begin?" 

Van  Buren  did  not  know  what  to  say,  and  he 
awoke  as  the  train  stopped  in  the  Grand  Central 
Station. 


Ill 


lENATOR  MARLOW  was  the  leader 
of  the  Democratic  party  in  the  State. 
He  had  a  speaking  acquaintance  with 
all  young  Democrats,  towards  whom 
he  adopted  an  habitual  avuncular 
attitude.  The  senator  combined  in  one  the  sage 
and  the  politician.  A  lawyer  by  profession,  and  a 
successful  one,  he  was  a  politician  by  instinct. 
Politics  to  him  was  the  breath  of  life.  Everybody 
and  everything  he  viewed  through  political  spec- 
tacles. 

Bom  in  Hudson,  in  the  same  county  with  Van 
Buren's  ancestors,  Daniel  ]\Iarlow  went  to  the  public 
schools  until  he  was  fifteen  and  then  helped  around 
in  his  father's  grocery  store.  In  his  school-days  he 
was  in  politics;  at  the  Sunday-school,  when  there 
was  voting  for  the  most  popular  teacher,  he  had 
stuffed  the  ballot-box  by  dropping  in  a  lot  of  tick- 
ets upon  which  he  got  his  eldest  sister  to  write 
his  teacher's  name.  The  discrepancy  between  the 
money  received  at  ten  cents  a  vote  and  the  total 
number  of  votes  found  in  the  box  caused  a  Sunday- 
school  scandal,  but  no  one  thought  of  implicating 
him,  and  even  at  the  early  age  of  twelve  he  had 
learned  the  value  of  silence  and  secrecy. 

At  the  public  school,  where  he  was  far  advanced 

i6 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

for  his  age,  he  organized  a  political  machine  and 
elected  his  followers  to  all  the  class  offices,  not  going 
on  the  ticket  himself.  He  was  not  popular,  and  he 
did  not  think  his  candidacy  would  help  the  ticket. 
But  he  manipulated  matters  so  as  to  have  the 
selection  of  the  class  orator  left  to  a  committee, 
and  by  securing  friends  of  his  on  the  committee 
he  was  made  class  orator  and  the  feature  of  com- 
mencement day. 

The  poHtics  of  the  ward  centred  around  his 
father's  grocery.  In  the  rear  of  the  store  was  a 
small  room  partitioned  off,  with  a  stove,  chairs,  and 
a  demijohn.  Here  customers  were  treated,  as  was 
the  custom  in  those  days,  and  here  evenings  the 
Democratic  workers  of  the  ward  would  gather. 
Daniel  Marlow  learned  at  these  meetings  the  harm 
of  too  much  liquor  when  he  saw  his  father  cajoling 
the  secrets  from  his  associates  with  the  aid  of  the 
demijohn.  He  noticed  that  when  the  supervisor 
of  the  ward  and  his  father  were  alone  his  father 
encouraged  the  supervisor  to  fill  his  glass  and  only 
partly  filled  his  own.  Daniel  then  came  to  the 
conclusion,  which  he  pursued  in  after  life,  that  the 
less  he  drank  the  better. 

After  three  years  in  the  grocery  store  Daniel 
startled  his  father  by  announcing  that  he  was  read- 
ing law  with  Judge  Coombs,  and  that  there  would  be 
a  vacancy  in  the  store  which  his  younger  brother 
was  old  enough  to  fill.  In  Judge  Coombs' s  office  he 
divided  his  time  between  the  routine  law-books  and 
the  judge's  private  library.  Judge  Coombs  was  a 
Whig,  and  his  library  contained  the  FederaHst 
Hamilton's  writings,  Webster's  speeches,   and  the 

17 


John    Van    Baren^    Politician 

debates  of  the  Constitutional  Convention.  He  took 
the  Weekly  Tribune,  and  swore  at  Greeley's  attacks 
on  Seward.  Daniel  attended  all  the  primaries, 
caucuses,  conventions,  and  political  meetings  held 
by  both  parties.  His  father  took  the  Albany  Week- 
ly Argus,  which  printed  the  leading  Democratic 
speeches,  and  the  Weekly  Tribune  told  about  the 
Whigs.  Columbia  County  was  generally  Demo- 
cratic, although  the  Whigs  would  carry  it  occasion- 
ally through  Democratic  factional  fights,  in  which 
the  old  Van  Buren  element  was  still  prominent. 
Daniel  noted  that  the  easiest  way  to  win  was  to 
split  the  opposition  vote,  and  that  most  men  voted 
against  something  and  to  beat  some  candidate. 

When  he  was  twenty-one  Daniel  Marlow  was 
admitted  to  the  bar.  The  next  day  after  he  was 
sworn  in  as  an  attorney  he  packed  his  few  law- 
books in  a  valise  and  set  out  for  Albany.  On  his  ar- 
rival he  walked  to  the  law-office  of  Senator  Calder, 
the  leader  of  the  Democratic  party  in  the  State,  and 
installed  himself  as  office  boy.  How  he  was  en- 
gaged Senator  Calder  could  not  recall.  He  fitted 
himself  in  and  went  to  work.  The  work  consisted 
of  sitting  in  the  outside  office  and  looking  after  the 
callers  who  were  rarely  clients,  but  the  county 
political  leaders  from  all  over  the  State.  The 
senator  had  two  inside  rooms,  one  where  his  desk 
and  library  were  and  a  little  consultation  room  to 
one  side,  which  reminded  Marlow  of  the  back  room 
in  his  father's  grocery.  It  had  a  stove  and  chairs 
and  a  closet  with  bottles,  instead  of  the  demijohn,  on 
the  shelf. 

In  this  office  Daniel  Marlow  had  spent  the  sub- 

i8 


John    Van    Btrrcnt    Politician 

sequent  years  of  his  life.  From  office  boy  he  be- 
came clerk;  from  clerk,  assistant;  from  assistant, 
partner;  and  then,  when  Senator  Calder's  body  was 
taken  to  the  cemetery  on  the  Esperance  Hill  over- 
looking the  farm-house  on  Schoharie  Creek,  where  he 
was  born  and  where  the  Democratic  majority  to  this 
day  shows  his  handiwork,  Daniel  Marlow  occupied 
the  inner  office  and  continued  the  consultations  in 
the  little  room,  and  changed  nothing,  not  even  the 
Peter  Calder  on  the  tin  sign  on  the  outer  door. 
His  own  name,  Daniel  Marlow,  was  on  a  similar  tin 
sign  under  it.  It  was  the  one  sentiment  of  Daniel 
Marlow' s  life. 

His  political  power  grew.  Before  he  had  been  in 
Albany  five  years  he  was  chosen  district  attorney. 
Senator  Calder  obtained  him  that  nomination  to  beat 
a  popular  factional  opponent  for  renomination.  The 
only  way  the  incumbent  could  be  defeated  was  by 
Senator  Calder  making  a  personal  matter  of  it  and 
putting  his  prestige  into  the  scale.  He  picked  out 
his  own  assistant  as  being  so  close  to  himself  that 
the  delegates  to  the  convention  could  find  no  excuse 
for  not  standing  by  him.  That  one  term  as  district 
attorney  was  the  only  time  Daniel  Marlow' s  name 
ever  appeared  on  a  ticket  to  be  voted  for  at  the 
polls. 

Twenty  years  went  by  before  Daniel  Marlow  filled 
another  public  office.  Those  years  were  spent  in 
building  up  a  political  machine  as  intricate  and  well 
fitted  as  the  works  of  a  watch.  His  correspondence 
and  acquaintance  extended  to  at  least  two  men  in 
every  one  of  the  three  thousand  election  districts  of 
the  State,  whom  he  could  call  by  their  first  names, 

19 


John    Van    Baren,    Politician 

and  with  whom  he  conducted  a  correspondence. 
The  necessity  of  this  occupation  made  him  the 
inventor  of  the  manifold  letter  with  the  facsimile 
signature.  Before  there  was  such  a  thing  as  the 
type-writer  he  would  have  his  clerk,  who  could 
imitate  his  signature  so  well  that  none  but  a  bank 
teller  could  detect  the  difference,  write  to  his  ad- 
herents throughout  the  State  whenever  occasion 
needed.  To  this  day,  in  rural  neighborhoods,  old 
farmers  and  store  -  keepers  cherish  among  their 
valued  possessions  these  letters  signed  Daniel  I\Iar- 
low,  testimonials  of  the  time  when  they  were  of 
importance  in  politics,  and  it  w^ould  be  a  blow  to 
them  to  know  that  hundreds  of  exact  copies  w^ere 
simultaneously  sent  out.  The  county  and  district 
leaders  always  called  on  him  on  their  way  to  New 
York,  or  whenever  they  had  occasion  to  be  at  the 
State  capital.  The  conferences  took  place  in  the 
little  room.  Every  possible  move  on  the  political 
chess-board  was  here  discussed,  and  the  climax  of 
the  two  decades  of  this  incessant  detail  was  the 
election  in  the  face  of  a  hostile  apportionment  of  a 
Democratic  legislature  which,  as  its  first  act  after  its 
organization,  made  Daniel  Marlow  a  senator  of  the 
United  States  for  the  State  of  New  York. 

During  these  years  of  politics  Daniel  Marlow's 
law  practice  grew  without  effort.  He  had  to  live, 
and  the  necessary  money  he  acquired  from  his 
practice;  that  was  the  only  reason  he  kept  it  up. 
Withal  he  was  a  good  lawyer.  His  mental  habit 
of  looking  at  every  twist  and  turn  of  a  political 
situation  made  him  the  leading  equity  and  con- 
stitutional  pleader  in   the   State.     There   was   no 

20 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

subtlety  in  a  case  he  could  not  turn  to  his  advantage, 
no  loop-hole  which  he  could  not  make  appear,  and 
sincerely,  too,  as  big  as  a  barn  door.  The  impor- 
tance of  small  things  was  his  political  life.  He 
needed  no  arithmetical  calculations  to  tell  him  that 
a  change  of  five  votes  to  the  election  district  would 
shift  the  political  control  of  the  State,  and  that  it  is 
the  little  things  which  decide  the  big  events.  Thus 
in  the  law  he  could  see  arguments  invisible  at  a 
first  glance,  and  the  judges  came  to  fear  him,  so 
adept  was  he  in  taking  one  point  and  enlarging  it, 
as  on  a  stereopticon  screen,  until  it  covered  the 
whole  case.  Clients  were  always  seeking  him.  He 
accepted  those  he  pleased,  according  to  his  financial 
necessities,  and  charged  them  as  he  liked,  and  then 
refused  further  business  until  his  fees  were  expended. 
Clients  desirous  of  his  services  had  learned  that 
November,  after  election,  was  the  best  time  to  ap- 
proach him  with  retainers,  for  every  campaign  left 
him  in  debt.  The  possession  or  accumulation  of 
money  had  no  attraction  for  him,  which  made  it 
easy  for  him  to  be  unbribably  honest,  and  he  could 
never  understand  the  weakness  and  the  avarice  of 
his  underlings  who  accepted  bribes. 

That  was  Daniel  Marlow's  weakness  —  his  only 
weakness,  perhaps,  but  a  great  and  weighty  handicap 
which  kept  him  from  full  success.  He  could  not 
understand  or  sympathize  with  the  weaknesses  of 
other  men.  He  had  never  been  intoxicated,  except 
once  when  he  deliberately  drank  too  much  whiskey 
out  of  curiosity  to  know  the  sensation,  and  was 
thoroughly  disgusted  with  it.  He  smoked  a  cigar 
once;  it  made  him  sick  and  he  never  tried  it  again. 

21 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

He  learned  to  play  poker  and  won  the  first  time  he 
played.  That  did  not  interest  him  except  as  one 
way  to  make  money,  and  rather  hard  work  at  that. 
He  could  not  understand  why  men  wasted  time  and 
thought  on  chess  and  whist,  both  of  which  he  tried, 
when  the  greatest  game  in  the  world,  politics,  was 
open  to  all.  No  woman  interested  him,  not  even 
his  wife.  Sometimes  he  wondered  what  would  be- 
come of  his  political  leadership  if  women  were 
allowed  to  vote,  but  he  would  dismiss  that  thought 
with  the  feeling  that  it  would  be  time  enough  to 
meet  such  a  situation  when  it  arose. 

His  marriage  was  the  one  inexplicable  event  of  his 
life.  His  wife  was  the  daughter  of  Peter  Calder; 
she  was  named  Marcia,  after  Governor  Marcy,  her 
father's  great  friend.  Her  father  never  forgave 
her  because  she  was  not  a  boy  and  could  not 
succeed  to  the  political  hegemony  which  he  had 
established.  She  was  a  girl  with  a  brilliant  mind, 
which  she  inherited  and  in  turn  resented  the  in- 
heritance. She  hated  being  brilliant;  she  would 
have  preferred  to  be  humdrum  and  commonplace 
and  happy,  but  she  could  not  help  herself.  She 
was  unable  to  keep  from  being  clever  and  keen  in 
thought  and  speech,  addicted  to  the  epigram  habit, 
try  as  she  might  to  break  it  off.  Although  she  was 
good-looking  and  well  mannered  and  well  gowned, 
attractive  in  person,  and,  when  she  had  herself  in 
hand,  charming  in  speech,  her  involuntary  out- 
bursts of  sarcasm  and  her  shafts  of  wit  made  her 
feared  of  men.  Often  after  a  ball  or  a  dinner  she 
would  bewail  to  herself  that  no  man  liked  to  be 
alone  with   her.     At  the   dinner  -  table  every   one 

22 


John    Van    Burent    Politician 

admired  and  listened.  The  men  regarded  it  a 
privilege  to  sit  on  either  side  of  her,  for  in  numbers 
there  was  safety,  and  she  managed  to  scatter  the 
arrows  of  her  wit  and  ridicule  so  that  no  one  should 
feel  especially  hurt.  But  few  men  could  com- 
placently retire  from  an  hour's  conversation  with  her 
alone.  She  could  not  help  it.  Try  as  she  would  to 
be  flattering  and  to  stroke  man's  mental  fur  the 
right  way,  she  was  sure  to  let  something  slip  which 
rankled  in  his  mind  and  caused  him  to  avoid  her. 
With  all  the  public  admiration  and  attention  she  re- 
ceived, no  man  ever  had  the  temerity  to  propose  to 
her;  and  little  blockheads  of  girls  without  beauty 
or  attractions  married  the  men  whom,  try  her 
best,  she  could  never  induce  to  be  tender  and  loving, 
or  even  flirtatious. 

Daniel  Marlow  was  the  first  man  she  knew  who 
was  proof  against  her  keen  tongue.  At  first  she 
was  glad,  for  towards  this  shrewd,  strong  young 
man  she  felt  a  liking  from  the  start.  She  met  him 
at  her  father's  office,  where  his  seeming  awkward- 
ness in  complying  with  a  request  brought  forth 
one  of  the  cutting  comments  which  she  no  sooner 
made  than  regretted.  Instead  of  the  flush  of  injury 
or  wrath  which  with  others  followed  such  incidents, 
she  was  surprised  to  see  no  trace  of  change  in  Daniel 
Marlow's  face  or  voice.  Could  it  be  that  she  was 
understood  at  last,  and  that  he  knew  she  would 
rather  the  next  instant  have  cut  out  her  tongue 
to  recall  what  she  had  said?  It  was  years  after 
before  she  reluctantly  confessed  to  herself  that 
both  his  seeming  awkwardness  and  the  ignoring  of 
her  sarcasm  were  but  the  habitual  indifference 
3  23 


John    Van    Burcn,    Politician 

which  Daniel  Marlow  felt  to  everything  not  polit- 
ical. 

About  the  time  he  was  elected  district  attorney 
]\Iarcia  Calder  decided  to  marry  him.  She  had  never 
made  up  her  mind  to  marry  any  man  before,  al- 
though it  often  occurred  to  her  that  this  man  or 
that  might  be  a  possible  husband,  and  she  had  done 
her  best,  in  feminine  fashion,  to  put  them  through 
their  paces  and  to  impress  them  with  her  desirability. 
The  man  had  always  fled,  often  in  terror  at  the  pros- 
pect of  a  life  within  daily  sound  of  her  sharp  sayings. 

They  were  a  strange  pair,  these  two.  One  even- 
ing he  had  dined  with  her  and  her  father  and  they 
were  talking  politics.  Marcia  Calder  was  often  pres- 
ent at  these  evening  talks.  The  subject  of  dis- 
cussion was  the  best  way  to  dispose  of  certain 
scandals  inside  the  party.  Congressman  Whiting, 
of  the  Mohawk  Valley  district,  had  been  implicated 
in  the  public  works  frauds,  and  it  was  a  question 
whether  the  party  organization  should  try  to  hush 
the  matter  or  what  its  attitude  should  be.  Daniel 
Marlow's  advice  was:  "  Either  stand  by  Whiting  or 
put  him  out  yourself  and  take  the  credit  for  repudi- 
ating him.     Don't  take  a  middle  course." 

**  Whiting  has  always  been  one  of  my  friends," 
said  Mr.  Calder.     "His  district  is  always  with  us." 

''Stand  by  him  for  political  reasons  if  you  think 
best,  but  don't  let  personal  friendship  influence  your 
political  judgment." 

"  That  would  be  easy  for  you,  Mr.  Marlow,"  com- 
mented Marcia.  "  I  don't  believe  you  ever  had  a 
personal  friendship.  Have  you  ever  been  any  one's 
friend?" 

24 


John    Van    Barcn^    Politician 

**It  is  safer  not,"  gravely  replied  Daniel  Marlow. 
"  Friendship  is  as  much  out  of  place  in  politics  as  in 
a  bank.  As  well  might  a  bank  president  discount 
notes  on  friendship  instead  of  collateral." 

"  Whiting  will  go  under  whether  we  stand  by  him 
or  not,"  said  Calder.  "He  has  gone  too  far  to 
prevent  exposure." 

''  Then  let  us  do  the  exposing  and  take  credit 
for  protecting  the  State  against  even  our  own 
thieves,"  argued  Daniel  Marlow.  And  it  was  done 
as  he  said,  to  the  destruction  of  Congressman  Whit- 
ing and  the  benefit  of  the  party  which  elected  Mr- 
Calder  governor  that  fall  on  the  reform  issue. 

Marcia  Calder  was  the  governor's  daughter  when 
she  married  Daniel  Marlow.  They  had  arranged  the 
marriage  in  a  business-like  way,  without  sentiment 
or  love-making.  Her  father  gave  them  a  house  on 
Elk  Street,  where  they  lived  and  where  Mr.  Calder 
died  shortly  after  his  term  as  governor  ended. 

To  them  one  child  was  born,  a  girl,  named  Mary 
by  her  mother.  The  girl  grew  up  with  her  father; 
she  was  not  a  mother's  child.  She  was  her  father's 
only  pleasure  and  relaxation  outside  of  politics. 
He  had  hobbies  about  children,  and  instead  of  the 
usual  child's  books  and  playthings  he  gave  her  the 
Bible,  Shakespeare,  and  Milton,  all  with  colored 
illustrations.  From  these  she  learned  her  alphabet 
and  to  read.  Her  father  was  her  playmate;  her 
first  playthings  were  Noah's  ark  and  the  twelve 
apostles.  Her  boy  dolls  were  named  Tiglath-Pileser, 
Sennacherib,  and  Pul,  after  the  kings  of  Assyria, 
and  her  girl  dolls  were  Jemima,  Keziah,  and  Keren- 
Happuch.     Her    private    playground   was    her   fa- 

25 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

ther's  inner  office,  where  she  spent  the  great  part 
of  her  time.  When  it  came  to  teaching  her,  her 
father  was  the  instructor.  She  would  read  Milton 
to  him  evenings,  stumbling  over  the  big  words,  and 
on  Sundays  he  liked  to  have  her  read  the  chapters 
of  names  from  the  Chronicles  and  the  pedigrees  of 
the  tribes  of  Israel.  The  book  of  Proverbs  she 
learned  by  heart,  and  the  wisdom  of  Solomon.  She 
was  a  grown-up  girl  before  she  went  to  school.  She 
had  learned  to  speak  German  from  the  cook  and 
French  from  her  mother's  maid.  When  she  had 
read  Shakespeare  and  Milton  her  father  added 
Horace  and  Homer,  which  he  had  taught  himself. 
He  liked  the  sound  of  the  words  in  the  original  text, 
Homer  more  than  Horace,  and  the  ocean  descrip- 
tions by  Ulysses  most  of  all.  Mary  learned  to  read 
them  aloud  before  she  was  eight  years  old.  The 
words  conveyed  as  much  meaning  to  her  as  the 
genealogies  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  with  a 
child's  active  memory  she  committed  the  Latin  and 
Greek  text  with  equal  facility.  Her  knowledge  of 
the  geography  and  political  divisions  of  the  State 
of  New  York  was  minute,  and  this  she  acquired 
at  her  father's  office;  and  the  politics  of  the  State 
she  absorbed  at  play. 

Mary  Marlow  grew  up  to  know  men,  with  few 
girl  friends  and  no  girl  confidantes.  Until  she  was 
too  old  to  spend  her  time  in  her  father's  office,  that 
was  her  favorite  playground  and  the  politicians  of 
the  State  were  her  playmates.  Congressmen,  sena- 
tors, assemblymen,  judges,  commissioners,  and  all 
the  rest  were  her  friends,  and  without  knowing  it 
she  was  a  great  aid  to  her  father.     Her  presence 

26 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

in  the  inner  office  added  a  touch  of  the  humanity 
which  was  so  lacking  in  her  father's  deaHngs  with 
his  fellow-men,  and  her  childish  sympathy  did  much 
to  make  up  for  her  father's  hardness  and  the  remorse- 
lessness  of  his  political  calculations. 

When  her  school-days  were  over — and  they  were 
brief,  for  school  was  distasteful  to  her — she  entered 
into  her  father's  work  and  became  a  real  assistant 
to  him.  In  his  office  he  had  his  secretary,  his 
stenographer,  and  his  clerks,  but  he  trusted  none  of 
them.  It  might  be  that  some  day  they  would  leave 
him  to  set  out  for  themselves,  or  they  might  turn 
against  him,  and  in  the  vicissitudes  of  political  life 
he  had  seen  how  many  turnings  there  are.  So  he 
guarded  against  any  secret  of  his  coming  into  their 
possession.  His  daughter  was  the  only  one  in  the 
world  he  trusted  and  confided  in.  His  wife  and 
he  had  never  pretended  a  sentimental  attachment, 
and  the  word  love  was  used  between  them  only 
when  it  became  necessary  in  repeating  the  marriage 
ceremony.  Both  recognized  their  community  of 
material  interests  and  neither  regretted  their  mar- 
riage. 

Mrs.  Marlow  was  in  love  with  no  other  man,  and 
she  had  a  pride  in  her  husband's  power  and  success 
and  a  feeling  of  family  inheritance  in  that  she  was 
the  wife  of  her  father's  political  successor.  She 
made  it  a  point  to  entertain  extensively  and  to 
keep  up  a  large  domestic  establishment.  It  im- 
pressed the  politicians  throughout  the  State.  The 
successive  governors,  bishops,  chancellors,  and 
judges  of  the  Court  of  Appeals  were  her  friends  ir- 
respective   of    their   politics.     They    attended    her 

27 


John    Van    Baren,    Politician 

weekly  dinners,  spent  their  Sunday  afternoons  with 
her,  and  unconsciously  were  governed  greatly  by 
her  views  and  influenced  by  her  comments.  This 
was  Mrs.  Marlow's  life.  While  Mary  was  growing 
up  with  her  father,  Mrs.  Marlow  was  developing  in 
full  scope  the  aptitude  for  political  management 
which  she  had  inherited  and  which  her  father  had 
ignored  and  repressed.  The  keenness  of  her  speech, 
which  had  mortified  her  so  often  when  an  unmarried 
girl,  became  something  to  be  marked  and  quoted 
when  she  was  the  head  of  her  own  household. 

As  in  politics,  so  in  religious  matters,  Mrs.  Marlow 
took  a  leading  part,  and  made  a  clergyman  protege 
a  bishop,  who,  as  token  of  his  fealty,  regularly  at- 
tended her  Sunday  evening  high  teas.  She  believed 
in  distinguishing  and  observing  the  Sabbath  day, 
and  her  Sunday  evening  dinner  was  not  called 
dinner  but  tea,  and  no  wine  was  served  except  one 
small  bottle  of  champagne  which  the  bishop  had  all 
to  himself,  this  slight  stimulant  being  recommended 
by  the  bishop's  physician.  The  other  guests  had  to 
be  content  with  tea,  coffee,  and  chocolate.  To  com- 
pensate for  this  alcoholic  deprivation,  the  full  gold 
dinner-service — plates,  knives,  forks,  and  spoons — 
was  used  at  these  Sunday  evening  teas,  which  led 
one  of  the  favored  guests,  a  State  official  who  hasten- 
ed later  in  the  evening  to  the  Holland  Club  to  quench 
his  thirst,  to  observe,  "  I've  just  come  from  the  Elk 
Street  Keeley  cure,  all  gold  and  no  rum!"  This 
saying  was  repeated  to  Mrs.  Marlow,  who  enjoyed  it 
and  rewarded  its  author  with  her  high  favor. 

In  the  course  of  time  Mrs.  Marlow  became  a 
social  as  well  as  a  political  guide  to  the  successive 

28 


John    Van    Burcn,    Politician 

governors.  If  unmarried  or  widowed,  the  governor 
was  always  delighted  to  unload  the  social  side  of  his 
administration  on  Mrs.  Marlow's  capable  shoulders, 
and  the  wives  of  married  governors  were  likely, 
sooner  or  later,  to  find  safety  and  peace  in  the 
same  course.  This  occasioned  the  only  comment 
which  ever  ruffled  Mrs.  Marlow's  complacency. 

The  President  of  the  French  Republic  included 
Albany  in  the  tour  of  his  visit  to  the  United  States, 
and  the  official  world  arranged  to  give  him  a  recep- 
tion, a  dinner,  and  a  ball.  An  appropriation  was 
made  by  the  legislature  and  another  appropriation 
by  the  common  council,  and  a  joint  committee  was 
appointed  to  look  after  the  affair.  The  governor 
at  that  time  was  a  widower,  capable  enough  in  poli- 
tics but  helpless  in  social  matters,  which  his  wife 
during  her  lifetime  had  entirely  taken  into  her  own 
hands.  Mrs.  Marlow  naturally  took  charge.  The 
French  President  arrived.  Mrs.  Marlow  had  ar- 
ranged the  menu  and  directed  the  luncheon.  In  the 
evening  there  was  a  dinner  at  the  executive  mansion, 
where  Mrs.  Marlow  was  taken  in  by  the  French 
President.  She  had  picked  out  the  prettiest  girls 
in  Albany  and  Troy  for  the  members  of  the  Presi- 
dent's suite,  and  paired  off  the  governor  with  the 
wife  of  the  mayor  and  her  husband  with  the  wife 
of  the  chief  judge. 

After  the  dinner  came  the  ball.  The  joint  com- 
mittees of  legislators  and  aldermen  had  a  big  appro- 
priation to  expend  and  they  spread  themselves  on 
this  ball.  Its  fame  was  heralded  through  the  United 
States,  and  the  French  President  admitted  that  he 
had  never  seen  anything  like  it  before.     The  opera- 

29 


John    Van    Burcn,    Politician 

house  will  seat  three  thousand  people  and  occupies 
a  block.  The  auditorium  was  floored  over  for  the 
dancing,  and  the  stage  was  divided  into  three  large, 
elevated  boxes,  the  centre  one  for  the  French 
President  and  the  two  others  for  the  mayor  and  the 
governor.  The  adjacent  streets  were  temporarily 
sheltered  over  to  make  a  supper-room  three  blocks 
long,  the  biggest  ever  known,  on  one  side  a  buffet 
and  on  the  other  the  champagne- trough. 

Senator  Dorfinger,  of  Buffalo,  who  was  the  chair- 
man of  the  joint  committee,  had  been  to  an  in- 
auguration ball  in  Washington,  and  he  told  his 
colleagues  he  was  determined  to  show  the  people  of 
the  United  States  that  the  State  of  New  York  could 
beat  it.  Ten  thousand  ball  and  supper  tickets  had 
been  issued,  the  senators,  assemblymen,  and  alder- 
men giving  themselves  twenty  apiece  for  their 
respective  districts,  and  every  politician  of  any 
influence  in  the  State  getting  two  at  least  for  him- 
self. Allowing  that  half  of  the  tickets  would  be 
used  by  women.  Senator  Dorfinger  calculated  that 
there  would  be  five  thousand  men.  The  committee 
accordingly  figured  out  that  one  thousand  cases  of 
champagne  would  allow  two  bottles  per  man,  with 
a  few  over  for  any  contingency.  Being  in  the 
liquor  business  himself.  Senator  Dorfinger  was  an 
expert  on  icing  and  bar  arrangements.  He  brought 
on  workmen  from  Buffalo  and  had  an  ice -trough 
built  three  blocks  long.  It  began  on  Washington 
Avenue  and  extended  around  the  block  to  Washing- 
ton Avenue  again.  To  this  matter  Senator  Dor- 
finger gave  his  personal  consideration.  The  thou- 
sand cases  of  champagne  were  all  in  place  in  the 

30 


John    Van    Btircnt    Politician 

ice  by  six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  Every  senator  on 
the  joint  committee  was  allowed  to  appoint  ten 
bartenders  and  every  assemblyman  and  alderman 
five,  thus  gathering  a  representative  body  of  bar- 
tenders from  all  sections  of  the  State.  There  was 
a  bartender  to  every  ten  cases  of  champagne,  and 
every  bartender  was  instructed  to  answer  that  no 
other  beverage  than  champagne  was  obtainable. 

The  supper -room  was  filled  soon  after  the  ball 
opened.  A  procession  was  formed  that  slowly 
paraded  around  the  block,  vibrating  between  the 
buffet  and  the  champagne -trough.  Senator  Dor- 
finger  and  his  colleagues  headed  the  supper  parade 
and  declared  the  supper-room  formally  open  and 
dedicated  to  the  French  President  in  the  name  of 
the  senate  and  the  assembly  of  the  State  of  New 
York  and  the  mayor,  aldermen,  and  commonalty 
of  the  city  of  Albany.  Gradually  the  news  of  the 
champagne-trough  spread  through  the  ballroom  and 
the  men  deserted  the  auditorium.  The  women  were 
left  in  the  gallery  and  the  boxes,  where  the  supper 
was  served  to  them  by  the  caterer's  waiters.  Two 
orchestras,  one  on  the  floor  and  the  other  on  the 
balcony,  alternated  dance  music  and  marches,  the 
French  President,  the  mayor,  and  the  governor 
looking  on  from  their  elevated  boxes,  and  the  joint 
committee  and  their  constituents  celebrating  in  the 
supper-room. 

Late  in  the  evening  the  stragglers  from  the  supper- 
room  began  to  appear  on  the  floor.  Mrs.  Marlow 
was  seated  in  the  governor's  box  overlooking  the 
crowd.  One  of  the  exits  from  the  supper-room 
was  at  the  foot  of  the  mayor's  box.     From  this  exit 

31 


John    Van    Burcnt    Politician 

emerged  a  befuddled  young  Albanian  who  had 
entered  the  supper-room  two  blocks  away  at  the 
Washington  Avenue  comer  and  was  puzzled  by  the 
scene  and  splendor  before  him.  It  took  him  a  while 
to  get  his  bearings,  but  looking  up  he  recognized  the 
mayor,  surrounded  by  the  officers  of  the  local 
militia.  "There's  Jimmy,"  he  exclaimed.  "He's 
all  right."  Passing  along  he  confronted  the  French 
President  and  his  staff  in  full  uniform.  "  I  know  you, 
old  boy.  I  recognize  you  from  your  picture."  Then 
on  to  the  governor's  box  where  in  the  governor  he 
greeted  another  familiar  face.  Next  he  saw  Mrs. 
Marlow,  sitting  majestic  in  her  black  dinner-dress. 
This  was  a  puzzler.  Finally  a  light  dawned  on  him 
and  he  inquired,  "Where  did  you  get  Queen 
Victoria?"  Mrs.  Marlow  saw  nothing  strange  or 
unexpected  in  this  question  when  the  story  was  told 
her  afterwards,  but  she  never  forgave  the  man  who 
laughed  when  he  told  it.  "I  see  nothing  humorous 
in  the  incident,"  she  icily  remarked.  "It  was  a 
perfectly  natural  mistake." 


IV 


!AN  BUREN  was  awakened  the  next 
morning  after  his  trip  on  the  con- 
g  vention  train  by  Wilson.  "Wake  up, 
Van  Buren,  and  come  along.  I  made 
II  an  appointment  for  you  that  you'll 
be  sorry  to  miss.  Judge  Murphy  asked  us  to  break- 
fast with  him.  He  will  take  us  to  the  city  prison 
court  afterwards.  I  knew  you  wouldn't  want  to 
miss  it.  I  am  told  it's  better  than  vaudeville  there 
when  he  dispenses  justice." 

Judge  Murphy  lived  in  one  of  the  three  private 
houses  in  the  second  district.  The  judge  was  asleep 
on  the  lounge  in  the  parlor  when  Wilson  and  Van 
Buren  rang  the  door-bell.  He  came  to  the  door  him- 
self. ' '  Come  right  in  and  make  yourselves  at  home, ' ' 
he  said,  hospitably,  shaking  the  hands  of  both  of 
them  at  once.  "Look  over  the  papers  and  I'll  be 
down  in  a  few  minutes."  The  judge  reappeared 
shortly,  his  hair  still  wet,  with  a  fresh  collar  and  white 
lawn  tie,  showing  that  his  morning  toilet  consisted 
of  putting  his  head  in  a  basin  of  water  and  changing 
his  neckwear. 

"The  boys  had  quite  a  celebration  when  they  got 
back  to  the  district.  You'd  have  better  stayed  with 
us.  We  had  a  little  game  which  only  broke  up  a 
couple  of  hours  ago." 

33 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

"  I'm  afraid  we  couldn't  keep  up  with  you,  judge," 
said  Wilson.  "We  keep  early  hours  in  Cobleskill, 
or  if  we  do  happen  to  be  up  a  little  late  we  make 
up  for  it  the  next  morning  in  bed." 

"  That  wouldn't  do  here,"  replied  the  judge.  "It's 
better  to  be  an  ambulance  doctor  than  a  district 
leader.  Those  ambulance  fellows  have  swings  off, 
but  with  a  district  leader  in  a  district  like  this  it's 
any  and  all  the  time.  It's  as  bad  at  Saratoga  in  the 
summer  as  it  is  here.  It's  every  hour  of  the  day 
and  every  day  of  the  year." 

The  door-bell  rang  and  the  judge  went  again  to 
the  door.  A  pock-marked,  crop-haired  young  man 
talked  a  minute  in  the  hall  and  then  went  away. 
"That's  Small-pox  Charlie,"  explained  the  judge  on 
his  return  to  the  parlor.  "He's  captain  of  the 
Doyers  Street  district,  where  all  the  Chinks  live. 
Some  of  them  were  a  little  close  to  the  pipe  last  night 
and  they'll  be  in  court  this  morning.  Come  on 
down  to  breakfast.     Don't  mind  me." 

The  bell  rang  again  before  they  had  gone  down- 
stairs. This  time  a  voluble  Hebrew  appeared  and 
was  cut  short  in  a  long  explanation  by  the  judge,  who 
said  to  him,  "Oh  yes,  yes;  needn't  go  over  all  that 
again."  Then  turning  to  his  guests:  "That's  Sam 
Isaacs,"  explained  the  judge.  "  You  wouldn't  think 
that  man's  worth  quarter  of  a  million  dollars,  would 
you?  Made  it  on  Baxter  Street  in  the  clothing 
business.  He's  the  original  Isaacs.  One  of  his 
barkers  had  a  little  mix-up  with  a  neighbor.  No- 
body hurt.  Those  sheenies  claw  and  spit,  that's  all, 
but  they  all  turn  up  in  court  and  make  more  noise 
than  a  monkey-show." 

34 


John    Van    Barcnt    Politician 

Another  ring  and  another  visitor,  this  one  elabo- 
rately dressed,  with  a  diamond  horseshoe  pin,  a 
heavy  gold  watch-chain  and  diamond  charm,  and 
clothes  that  were  evidently  made  by  a  Fifth  Avenue 
tailor.  His  face  had  the  grayish  tinge  of  a  man  who 
is  habitually  up  all  night.  Judge  Murphy  frowned 
when  he  saw  him. 

"Too  late,  Tom.  No  use  coming  to  me  now. 
I  won't  stand." 

"Make  your  own  terms,  Pat,"  came  the  reply. 
"It's  before  you  this  morning." 

"  I'm  out  of  it,  Tom.  You  can't  play  both  ways 
from  the  middle." 

Wilson  and  Van  Buren  were  more  curious  about 
this  caller  than  either  of  the  others,  but  Judge 
Murphy  said  nothing  and  they  did  not  like  to  ask. 

In  the  breakfast  -  room  Judge  Murphy  told  the 
servant  girl  to  answer  the  bell  and  tell  all  the  callers 
he  had  gone  to  court.  Van  Buren  had  the  curiosity 
to  count  the  number  of  times  the  bell  rang.  It  rang 
eleven  times. 

"  Is  it  this  way  every  morning,  judge?"  he  asked. 

"  Well,  not  as  bad  as  this  every  morning,  but  some 
days  it  is  a  great  deal  worse.  About  election  time 
they  pull  the  door-bell  off,  but  I'm  never  in  here  then 
and  they  go  to  the  club.  You  see,  everybody  wants 
something  some  time  or  another,  and  I'm  the  man 
they  go  to  for  it  here.  Politics  is  simply  an  exchange 
of  favors.  I  do  favors  for  the  people  of  the  district 
three  hundred  and  sixty-four  days  of  the  year,  and 
I  ask  them  to  return  the  favor  on  election  day.  That's 
why  these  reformers  can't  ever  do  anything  in  a  dis- 
trict like  this.    There's  ninety  thousand  men,  women, 

35 


John    Van    Barcnt    Politician 

and  children  in  this  district,  and  the  women  and  chil- 
dren get  votes  for  you  as  well  as  the  men." 

"That's  as  many  as  the  whole  population  of 
Schenectady  and  Schoharie  counties,"  said  Wilson. 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  that,"  continued 
the  judge.  "But  we've  every  nationality  on  the 
face  of  the  earth.  There  is  twenty-nine  languages 
spoke  by  the  children  in  the  ]\Iulberry  Street  school, 
and  there's  every  shade  of  color — black,  yellow,  and 
green  —  Egyptians,  Chinks,  Turks,  niggers,  and 
Greeks,  not  to  speak  of  the  Dagoes,  the  Irish,  and  the 
Dutch.  There  is  representatives  of  every  downtrod 
and  oppressed  people,  and  some  of  them  so  used  to 
being  downtrod  and  oppressed  that  it's  the  only  way 
to  treat  them.  They  wouldn't  understand  anything 
else.  They  would  think  you  was  afraid  of  them. 
There's  one  house  on  Mulberry  Street  has  over  two 
thousand  people  in  it.  It's  full  of  families  that  live 
in  one  room  and  take  boarders.  Why,  these  googoos 
can't  talk  to  people  even.  They  talk  different  Eng- 
lish, let  alone  any  other  language.  My  district 
captains  know  every  man,  woman,  and  child  in  their 
district,  and  can  talk  to  them,  too.  And  they're 
with  them  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days  to  the 
year.  How  are  you  going  to  get  them  away?  If 
any  of  them  is  a  little  behind  in  his  rent,  or  wants  a 
bucket  of  coal,  or  a  loaf  of  bread,  or  if  the  husband 
is  on  the  island,  who  is  there  to  look  after  them  ex- 
cept our  people  ?  It  isn't  those  reformers  who  come 
down  here  in  October  and  tell  us  how  much  better 
they  are  that  bothers  me  any;  it's  to  keep  our  own 
people  satisfied  and  straight.  They  can't  beat 
Tammany   from    the   outside.     When    Tammany's 

36 


John    Van    Btiren,    Politician 

beat  it's  her  own  people  that  does  it,  because  they're 
sore  and  want  to  down  somebody.  But  they  keep 
quiet  about  it,  and  they  ain't  much  on  pronuncia- 
mentos  and  that  sort  of  thing  anyhow,  and  these 
rubber-tongued  googoos  throw  a  front  that  they 
did  it  all  and  get  all  the  fat  offices." 

'Before  the  judge  had  finished  this  oration  they 
were  seated  at  the  dining-room  table  down-stairs 
in  the  basement  facing  the  street.  The  house  was 
of  the  old  East  Side  style,  high  stoop,  three  stories, 
dining-room  and  kitchen  in  the  basement,  the  parlor 
and  the  judge's  office  on  the  first  floor,  and  bed- 
rooms up-stairs. 

''Here  comes  my  morning's  morning!"  exclaimed 
the  judge,  dropping  the  topic  they  were  discussing 
as  the  servant  girl  came  into  the  room  bearing  on  a 
large  platter  a  pickled  pig's  head,  a  quart  bottle  of 
champagne,  and  a  big  pitcher  containing  chipped  ice. 

The  judge  poured  the  champagne  into  the  pitcher, 
and  with  an  admiring  eye  and  deft  hand  revolved  it 
around  and  around  until  it  seethed,  when,  with  an 
air  of  contentment,  he  placed  the  pitcher  to  his 
lips  and  slowly  let  it  gurgle  down  his  throat  until 
the  last  drop  disappeared.  Then  with  a  grunt  of 
satisfaction  he  placed  the  empty  pitcher  on  the  table. 

''This  is  my  remedy  to  get  rid  of  a  head  after  a 
night  of  it,"  said  the  judge.  "  You  know  about '  the 
hair  of  the  dog.'  I  find  it  very  effective.  Years  ago 
I  began  with  a  bath  and  ApoUinaris.  I  am  afraid 
I'll  wind  up  with  two  quarts  of  champagne  and  two 
pickled  pigs'  heads."  He  fell  to  and  with  gusto  ate 
the  entire  pig's  head.  "Now,"  he  wound  up,  ''I 
feel  fresh  and  ready  for  a  good  breakfast." 

Z1 


John    Van    Burent    Politician 

They  had  hardly  begun  when  the  daughter  of  the 
judge  came  in  to  join  them.  She  looked  very 
pretty  in  a  neatly  fitting  dark -brown  suit. 

"  How  is  my  little  darling  this  morning?"  said  he, 
and  then,  recalling  his  guests,  he  introduced  her  to 
Wilson  and  Van  Buren. 

''Well,  papa,"  said  Miss  Murphy  to  the  judge,  as 
they  were  eating  their  breakfast,  "I  want  you  to 
tell  me  now  what  kind  of  a  time  you  have  had." 

"The  same  old  kind  of  a  time,"  he  replied,  "the 
same  old  programme." 

"Cheers  and  champagne,  I  suppose,  and  then 
champagne  and  cheers,  then  more  champagne  and 
cheers?" 

"That  was  the  programme  precisely,"  answered 
the  judge,  laughing.  "If  you  were  a  young  man 
what  a  politician  I'd  make  of  you." 

"If  I  were  a  young  man,  I'd  let  politics  and 
politicians  severely  alone,"  she  answered,  with  a 
proud  and  half-defiant  toss  of  her  head. 

"And  why?"  asked  Van  Buren. 

"  I  see  hundreds  of  politicians,"  she  replied,  "who 
come  here  to  see  papa,  but  there  is  not  one  in  a 
hundred  I  would  care  ever  to  see  again.  They  seem 
to  be  a  bad  lot.  Every  trade  has  its  tricks,  they 
say,  but  politics,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  is  all  tricks." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  your  father  is  tricky," 
broke  in  the  judge. 

"I  mean,  papa,  they  are  all  tricky  but  you,"  was 
her  reply,  with  a  smile,  and,  turning  to  Van  Buren, 
she  asked,  "Now  tell  me,  really,  Mr.  Van  Buren, 
did  you  like  the  crowd  and  the  champagne  and  the 
cheers?" 

38 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

"To  be  frank,"  was  Van  Buren's  answer,  **I 
would  have  liked  it  better  if  it  had  been  all  cheers 
and  no  champagne." 

"It  is  astonishing  how  people  differ  in  their 
views,"  interrupted  the  judge.  "I  would  have 
liked  it  much  better  if  it  had  been  all  champagne 
and  no  cheers.  Mr.  Van  Buren  is  young  yet,  and  I 
think  he  will  become  an  apt  pupil  if  he  only  follows 
in  my  footsteps." 

"I  hope  Mr.  Van  Buren  won't  follow  in  your 
footsteps  so  far  as  to  have  to  eat  a  pickled  pig's  head 
in  the  morning." 

"It's  clear,  my  daughter,"  retorted  the  judge, 
with  a  broad  grin,  "that  you  don't  understand  why 
I  eat  a  pig's  head  in  the  morning." 

"I  supposed  it  was  to  counteract  the  cranial  en- 
largement," was  her  laughing  response. 

"  Not  at  all,"  explained  her  father.  "It's  because 
two  heads  are  better  than  one." 

"  Even  if  one  is  a  pig's  head  ?"  added  the  daughter, 
interrogatively,  and  laughing  heartily  at  her  own 
joke. 

The  breakfast  finished,  Miss  Murphy  went  up  to 
the  parlor  for  her  morning's  practice  on  the  piano, 
and,  looking  at  his  watch,  the  judge  said  it  was  time 
for  them  to  start. 


UDGE  MURPHY  was  holding  court 
at  the  city  prison.  Van  Buren  had 
never  before  been  inside  this  gray 
granite  structure,  with  its  wide  and 
dirt  -  begrimed  steps  and  massive, 
dark,  and  dismal  -  looking  pillars  in  front,  the  old 
gallows  yard  in  the  rear.  Its  oppressive  atmosphere 
chilled  his  spirits  as  he  entered  the  vestibule. 

When  the  judge  took  his  seat  the  court  policemen 
began  hustling  the  line  of  prisoners  from  the  pen. 
Judge  Murphy  disposed  of  them  as  fast  as  they 
appeared.  They  got  ten  days  before  the  accusing 
policeman  had  finished  saying,  "Found  drunk  on 
the  Bowery."  The  exceptions  were  the  men  with 
G.  A.  R.  buttons  and  a  few  whom  the  judge  knew. 
Judge  Murphy  had  joined  the  Sixty-ninth  Regiment 
when  a  young  man  and  had  served  the  last  few 
days  of  the  war.  He  was  proud  of  his  G.  A.  R. 
button,  and  so  well  was  his  weakness  for  G.  A.  R. 
buttons  known  that  a  tough  who  had  the  price 
would  hire  a  G.  A.  R.  button  for  a  dollar  from  the 
collector  for  the  court  squad.  This  did  not  hap- 
pen as  often  as  might  be  supposed,  for  few  men  of 
this  character  who  have  money  get  as  far  as  the 
police  court.  A  dollar  is  a  large  sum  on  the  Bowery. 
It  means  ten  nights'  lodging,  fifty  meals  at  the  St. 

40 


John    Van    Btjrcn,    Politician 

Andrew's  stand.  The  button  men  and  the  few  in- 
dividuals whom  the  judge  had  met  politically  were 
discharged  with  some  of  the  witticisms  for  which 
the  prison  reporters  had  made  the  judge  famous. 
The  majority  of  the  sayings  credited  to  the  judge 
were  invented  by  these  reporters,  but  he  occasionally 
was  the  author  of  one,  and  all  the  reporters  knew  that 
he  would  stand  sponsor  for  any  they  chose  to  invent. 

Accustomed  to  the  methods  of  country  courts, 
where  even  a  man  accused  of  disorderliness  would 
have  an  extended  hearing  if  desired,  Wilson  and 
Van  Buren  looked  with  new  wonder  at  the  celerity 
with  which  the  judge  went  through  his  business.  In 
less  than  an  hour  forty-seven  cases  were  heard  and 
disposed  of. 

*'  I  admire  the  expedition  with  which  you  transact 
business,  judge,"  said  Wilson. 

"I  hold  the  record,"  replied  the  judge,  proudly 
''I  have  disposed  of  one  hundred  and  four  cases  in 
one  hour,  hearing  both  sides.  You  don't  need  to 
hear  much.  Nobody  with  money  or  a  pull  gets  be- 
fore me  in  this  class.  If  he  has  money  he  can  fix 
the  policeman  or  they  will  take  it  away  from  him  at 
the  station-house  and  turn  him  loose.  If  he  has  a 
pull  he  will  work  it  with  the  police.  If  he  appears 
in  the  pen  it  means  he  has  no  money  and  no  friends. 
I  can  tell  by  looking  at  him  whether  he  is  an  *'  habit- 
ual" or  not.  The  old  rounders  I  keep  sending  up 
over  and  over  again.  They  don't  mind  it.  They 
sober  up  at  the  expense  of  the  city,  and  if  it  wasn't 
for  their  occasional  vacations  on  the  island  they 
would  turn  up  in  the  morgue  that  much  sooner." 

After  the  rapid   disposal  of  these  characters  a 

41 


John    Van    Burcnt    Politician 

batch  of  peddler  cases  was  heard.  The  defendants 
were  Greeks  or  Italians  charged  with  standing  their 
pushcarts  too  long  in  one  place  or  not  having  their 
licenses  renewed  on  time.  They  were  fined  one 
dollar  apiece. 

"I  would  like  to  discharge  them  all,"  said  the 
judge  to  Wilson,  *'but  I  don't  want  any  more 
friction  with  the  police.  It's  hard  enough  to  get 
along  with  them  now.  Of  all  leeches  and  blood- 
suckers, the  New  York  police  are  the  worst.  You 
saw  those  peddlers.  They  fell  behind  giving  up,  and 
here's  the  result.  All  those  fellows  give  up  a  quarter 
a  day  to  the  police,  or  they  are  arrested  on  some 
charge.  Up  the  State  you  fellows  read  about  it  and 
blame  Tammany.  Do  you  think  any  politician 
would  stand  for  that?  He  couldn't  live  over  one 
election.  What  we  want  from  those  fellows  is  their 
votes,  not  their  quarters.  Don't  you  know  that 
any  man  big  enough  to  be  a  leader  has  bigger  oppor- 
ttmities  than  that?  Whatever  they  say  about  me 
(and  there's  plenty  of  it,  I'm  not  denying),  I  never 
made  a  cent  out  of  a  peddler  or  a  woman,  and  you 
take  my  word  for  it  the  women  and  the  peddlers  and 
the  street  stands  and  bootblacks  and  all  that 
kind  of  money  are  police  graft.  It  sticks  there. 
We  are  after  their  votes." 

Next  came  a  batch  of  street  women.  In  the 
majority  of  cases  the  arresting  policeman's  memory 
was  weak  and  he  admitted  that  the  arrest  was  made 
on  suspicion.  All  these  were  necessarily  discharged 
for  lack  of  proof.  After  six  or  seven  policemen  were 
unable  to  testify  to  any  overt  act.  Judge  Murphy 
lost  his  temper. 

42 


John    Van    Biirent  Politician 

**  You're  all  discharged,"  he  said.  '*  I  won't  stand 
for  this.  I  want  you  all  to  know  that  this  court 
won't  be  a  collection  agency.  After  this,  any 
woman  locked  up  overnight  will  be  regarded  as 
siifficiently  punished.  You  women,  the  next  time 
you  are  arrested,  don't  give  bail." 

''There's  more  of  it!"  exclaimed  the  judge  to 
Wilson  and  Van  Buren.  "The  police  scoop  in 
these  street-walkers  once  a  week.  The  rate  is  five 
a  week.  If  they  don't  pay  it  they  are  taken  to 
Chestnut  Street,  and  it's  put  up  a  V  for  a  bond 
or  go  down-stairs  for  all  night,  and  look  out  for  a 
trip  to  the  island  in  the  morning.  Some  of  the 
higher  police  officers  stand  in  on  the  bond  money. 
What  am  I  to  do?  I  can't  manufacture  evidence 
against  them,  and  I  wouldn't  if  I  could.  Tammany 
gets  the  blame  for  it,  but  it  isn't  us,  it's  the  police." 

**Why  doesn't  Tammany  stop  it?"  inquired  Van 
Buren.  ''Tammany  controls  the  city  government. 
Can't  you  put  an  end  to  police  blackmail  ?  Aren't 
most  of  the  force  Tammany  appointees?" 

"  Young  man,  if  we  had  a  newspaper  in  New  York 
that  would  print  plain  facts  you  people  up  the 
State  would  know  better.  Every  time  anybody 
who  ever  belonged  to  a  Tammany  club  gets  in 
trouble  it's  always  printed  that  he  was '  A  prominent 
Tammany  politician.'  You  would  think  Tammany 
was  a  church  the  way  the  newspapers  go  on  every 
time  a  Tammany  man  goes  wrong  and  is  caught  at 
it.  D'ye  ever  hear  of  a  Republican  doin'  a  second- 
story  job  or  making  a  touch,  or  of  a  googoo  shovin' 
a  check  or  pushin'  in  some  guy's  nose  or  crackin'  his 
slats?     No.     He's  either  Tammany  or  his  politics 

43 


John    Van    Btircnt  Politician 

ain't  printed.  Let  me  tell  you  that  almost  all  top 
grafters  are  Republicans.  There's  the  Tenderloin — 
you've  heard  about  that.  That's  a  strong  Republi- 
can district,  and  there  has  never  been  even  a  Tam- 
many alderman  there.  Then  the  Red  Light  district — 
did  you  ever  hear  of  Barney  Rankins  or  Johnny 
O 'Toole  or  Johnny  Blenham?  They  were  the 
leaders  of  this  other  banner  Republican  district. 
Then  there  is  Greene  and  Mercer  and  Third  streets, 
where  they  have  the  French  shows,  another  Re- 
publican district.  Who  runs  the  Black  and  Tan? 
A  Republican  election-district  captain.  Four-fifths 
of  the  crooks  is  Republican.  They  think  it  gives 
them  tone,  and  nobody  wants  to  throw  a  respectable 
front  more  than  a  top  crook." 

There  was  a  lull  in  the  court  proceedings  after 
the  routine  cases  had  been  disposed  of,  and  Judge 
Murphy  continued  his  remarks  about  the  police. 

**We  get  the  blame  of  the  police.  Maybe  we 
deserve  it  for  ruinin'  a  lot  of  fine  young  men  by 
puttin'  'em  on  the  force.  Puttin'  them  on  is  one 
thing,  holdin'  them  or  gettin'  them  off  is  another. 
The  way  to  spoil  a  good  worker  is  to  put  him  on  the 
force.  Put  him  on  the  docks  or  on  the  streets  or 
the  pipes,  or  anywhere  else,  and  you  hold  him.  He's 
got  to  be  with  you  to  keep  his  job.  Put  him  on  the 
force  and  he  can  snap  his  fingers  at  you,  for  there's 
no  way  of  gettin'  him  off  if  his  captain  stands  by 
him,  and  it  isn't  long  before  he  learns  to  work  for 
the  captain's  graft  instead  of  for  the  organization." 

"But  doesn't  Tammany  control  the  police 
board?" 

"Naw!"  long  drawn  out.     "The  dubs  at  Albany 

44 


John    Van    Baren^    Politician 

is  what  the  comish  looks  after.  There  is  a  board 
that  they  call  non-partisan,  one  Tammany  man,  one 
mongrel  Democrat,  and  two  Republicans  who  are 
after  what  there  is  in  it.  Commissioner  Mahoney, 
the  Tammany  man,  is  the  only  one  of  the  lot  on  the 
level.  He's  worn  himself  out  makin'  a  fight  to  stop 
holdin'  up  the  liquor  people.  The  liquor  people 
were  with  us,  and  all  they  asked  was  to  be  let  alone 
and  not  have  to  give  up.  Mahoney  has  his  hands 
full  trying  to  protect  them.  Under  the  last  reform 
administration  every  liquor  dealer  had  to  put  up 
five  a  week,  the  same  as  if  he  were  a  street- walker, 
besides  a  Christmas  present  to  the  captain's  wife 
and  free  booze  to  the  force.  Tammany  has  broke 
that  up,  and  Mahoney' s  made  a  lot  of  enemies  doin' 
it.  He  was  in  a  fair  way  to  succeed  Coulter,  but 
the  police  will  do  him.  They  can  down  anybody. 
The  two  Republicans  are  real  business  men  in 
politics.  They're  the  genuine  article.  One  price, 
no  discounts  and  no  bargain  days.  All  their  appoint- 
ments are  sold — $300  for  an  appointment,  $750  for 
the  arrow  on  the  sleeves,  $2000  for  a  sergeant, 
$12,000  for  a  captain,  and  as  much  more  as  they  can 
get.  The  quarter  of  the  appointments  that  comes 
to  Mahoney — for  the  appointments  are  divided  into 
quarters,  like  pie — Mahoney  uses  to  strengthen  the 
organization.  The  mongrel  Democrat's  the  worst. 
His  clerk  is  a  regular  auctioneer.  He's  a  holdover 
and  won't  be  reappointed,  and  all  there  is  in  it  is 
what  he's  after." 

The  clerks  had  finished  their  papers  in  all  the  minor 
cases  and  the  little  opium  matter  came  up.  Van 
Buren  recognized  Small-pox  Charlie  on  a  back  seat. 

45 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

A  row  of  Chinamen  were  brought  out  from  the  pen 
and  arraigned  on  the  charge  of  running  an  opium  joint. 
The  complaining  poHceman  stated  that  he  had  ar- 
rested the  men  in  a  rear  tenement  in  Doyers  Street, 
near  the  Chinese  Delmonico's,  in  the  act  of  making 
and  smoking  opium  pills.  A  number  of  pipes  were 
seized  and  offered  in  evidence.  The  judge  took  a 
hand  in  the  examination. 

*'  What  did  you  see  these  defendants  do  ?' 

"They  were  lying  aroimd  the  room  on  bunks, 
some  smoking,  some  making  pills,  and  the  others 
talking." 

"What  ones  were  smoking  and  making  pills?" 

"  I  can't  say  which  were  which,  but  they  were  all 
there." 

Here  the  regular  counsel  of  Chinatown,  a  rotund 
prison  lawyer,  interposed. 

"Your  honor,  I  move  for  the  discharge  of  the 
prisoners.  The  officer  fails  to  state  who  were  com- 
mitting overt  acts.  It  is  no  crime  to  lie  on  a  bunk 
and  talk." 

"  Prisoners  discharged,"  ruled  the  justice. 

"What  right  had  the  policeman  to  arrest  every- 
body?" asked  Van  Buren,  his  experience  as  district 
attorney  contrasting  New  York  and  Schenectady 
police  methods.  "Why  didn't  he  arrest  only  those 
he  could  testify  against?" 

"Oh,  they  just  took  'em  all  in.  Had  a  little  dif- 
ference with  Captain  Flynn  at  Mulberry  Street  over 
their  assessment.  These  Chinks  hate  to  give  up; 
they'd  rather  keep  on  the  move." 

The  Baxter  Street  assault  case  followed  and  would 
have  taken  all  day  had  the  judge  allowed  the  wit- 

46 


John    Van    Btirent    Politician 

nesses  to  testify.     There  were  two  benches  of  eager 
witnesses. 

''  How  many  witnesses  have  you?"  Judge  Murphy 
asked  the  complainant. 

**  Nine,  your  honor,"  repHed  a  Hebrew  with  scratch- 
ed face  and  missing  patches  of  beard. 

"How  many  witnesses  have  you  for  your  man?" 
turning  to  Isaacs. 

"Ten,  your  honor." 

"The  majority  rules.  Case  is  dismissed." 
'  This  was  greeted  with  laughter  throughout  the 
court-room,  and  all  the  reporters  took  notes.  It 
was  remarks  like  these  and  many  others  the  re- 
porters chose  to  invent  that  made  Judge  Murphy 
famous. 

A  routine  burglary  case  took  five  minutes.  The 
complainant  was  a  Bowery  store-keeper.  The  de- 
fendant had  been  caught  in  the  store. 

"Held  in  two  thousand  dollars  bail  for  the  grand 
jury." 

"  This  is  the  first  thing  I've  seen  here  that  reminds 
me  of  anything  in  my  experience,"  whispered  Van 
Buren  to  Wilson. 

A  highway-robbery  charge,  the  complainant  being 
a  drunken  sailor,  v/as  disposed  of  in  the  same 
manner. 

A  policy  case  came  next.  Van  Buren  recognized 
the  judge's  well-dressed  caller  standing  near  the 
policy  man's  lawyer.  A  policeman  testified  to 
making  the  arrest  in  the  rear  of  a  cigar  store,  and 
produced  policy  slips  and  manifold-books  found  on 
a  table  at  which  the  prisoner  was  seated.  A  woman 
testified  that  she  had  bought  policy  from  the  de- 

47 


John    Van    Btirent    Politician 

fendant  and  complained  to  the  mayor.  The  reason 
was  that  her  husband  spent  all  his  earnings  playing 
policy  and  she  had  complained  before  to  the  police, 
but  the  captain  told  her  there  was  no  evidence. 

The  defendant's  lawyer  undertook  by  cross-ex- 
amination to  attack  the  character  of  the  woman. 

''None  of  that,"  interrupted  Judge  Murphy. 
''The  prisoner  is  held  in  a  thousand  dollars  bail  for 
the  grand  jury.  I  won't  stand  for  policy.  It's 
robbing  the  poor  of  pennies.  You  policy  people 
are  no  good.  I've  seen  too  much  of  the  harm  you 
do.     You  ought  to  be  hung." 

The  morning  visitor  flushed  at  this  and  went 
over  to  the  bond  clerk  to  give  bail. 


VI 


|FTER  lunching  with  Judge  Murphy, 
Wilson  and  Van  Buren  took  a  Fourth 
Avenue  car.  Judge  Murphy  said  he 
would  follow  them,  as  he  made  it  a 
point  to  be  at  Tammany  Hall  every 
day  between  three  and  four  o'clock. 

"It  is  always  well  to  keep  in  evidence,"  he  ob- 
served, sagaciously.  **  Politics  is  a  trade  with  short 
memories,  and  out  of  sight's  soon  forgotten." 

Getting  off  at  Fourteenth  Street,  Wilson  and  Van 
Buren  walked  towards  the  large,  square,  brick  build- 
ing on  the  north  side  of  the  street  near  the  old 
Academy  of  Music,  known  as  Tammany  Hall. 

''Wait  a  minute,"  said  Van  Buren.  "Let  us 
cross  the  street.  I'd  like  to  have  a  whole  view.  It 
has  a  sort  of  impressiveness  I  don't  know  how  to 
classify.  There  is  the  balcony  above  the  entrance 
columns:  you  might  imagine  a  great  orator  there 
stirring  the  public  conscience,  a  great  statesman  ex- 
pounding to  the  people  the  policy  of  his  party. 
What  a  forimi!  What  opportunities  and  possibili- 
ties !  How  democratic  the  plain  bricks,  the  massive, 
square  effect!" 

"  You  are  from  the  country.  Van  Buren,"  laughed 
Wilson.  "  Haven't  you  ever  been  in  New  York  be- 
fore ?     Better  look  out  or  one  of  the  ordinance  squad 

49 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

will  be  taking  you  in  for  sprinkling  hayseed  on  the 
sidewalk." 

Passing  up  the  entrance  steps,  Van  Buren  found 
himself  facing  a  broad  flight  of  stairs  rising  to  the 
general  meeting-room,  with  a  smaller  stairway  on 
the  right  descending  to  the  basement,  and  entrance 
doors  to  other  rooms  on  both  right  and  left.  The 
door  to  the  left  was  closed,  that  to  the  right  was 
open.     Men  were  passing  in  and  out. 

**  Mr.  Coulter  is  inside  at  his  desk,"  explained  Wil- 
son. *'  He  has  office  hours  as  regular  as  any  other  busi- 
ness man  or  financier.  When  he  is  in  the  city  you  will 
find  him  here  from  one  o'clock  to  three  or  four,  and 
during  those  hours  he  is  the  most  accessible  man 
in  New  York.  Anybody,  rich  or  poor,  day  laborer, 
merchant,  banker,  beggarman,  or  thief  can  call  and 
say  what  he  wishes.  Indeed,  Mr.  Coulter  encour- 
ages workingmen  to  call.  He  says  he  can  learn 
more  of  the  trend  of  politics  and  the  strength  of  pro- 
posed candidates  from  a  street -car  driver  than  a 
bank  president.  The  room  on  the  left  is  where  the 
executive  committee  meets.  It  is  seldom  used  ex- 
cept during  the  campaign.  Down-stairs  is  a  hall 
for  the  committee  on  organization,  which  has  about 
a  thousand  members,  approximately  as  many  as 
there  are  election  districts.  In  the  basement  also  is 
a  room  for  the  old  Columbian  Order  or  Tammany 
Society,  a  secret  society  founded  shortly  after  the 
Revolution  as  a  democratic  benevolent  organization 
to  oppose  the  aristocratic  tendency  of  the  Society  of 
the  Cincinnati.  Tammany  Hall,  the  political  or- 
ganization, is  nothing  but  a  body  of  men  who,  by  the 
tolerance  of  the  Columbian  Order,  meet  in  the  hall 

so 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

which  the  Columbian  Order  owns.  The  Columbian 
Order  could  turn  Tammany  Hall  over  to  the  Re- 
publican party  if  it  wished,  and,  indeed,  it  has  had 
many  Republicans  among  its  members  —  Roscoe 
Conkling,  for  instance." 

Entering  the  doors  to  the  right,  Van  Buren  found 
himself  in  a  large,  high-ceilinged  room,  with  two 
big  windows  facing  Fourteenth  Street  and  receiving 
the  afternoon  sun.  The  room  was  large.  The 
farther  end  was  partitioned  off  with  folding  doors, 
which  stood  wide  open.  In  the  main  room  were 
tables  and  fifty  or  sixty  chairs  in  rows  along  the 
walls,  which  were  occupied  by  a  waiting  crowd. 
Other  men  were  standing  around  or  sitting  on  the  ta- 
bles, many  of  them  smoking.  The  conversation  was 
low  and  subdued  and  the  hand-shaking  was  inces- 
sant, for  everybody  seemed  to  consider  it  necessary 
to  shake  hands  with  everybody  else,  and  the  usual 
salutations  of  ''Pleasant  day,"  "Good-afternoon," 
"  Fine  weather  we  are  having,"  were  accompanied 
with  a  hand-shake  and  a  proffered  cigar,  if  either  one 
was  not  smoking.  Every  little  while  everybody 
looked  in  through  the  folding  doors  to  see  whether 
one  of  the  two  occupants  of  the  chairs  behind  the 
large,  flat-topped  desk  was  getting  ready  to  give 
some  one  else  his  seat. 

Van  Buren  looked  at  the  scene  with  intense  interest. 
He  had  read  of  the  courts  of  St.  James  and  Versailles, 
and  somehow  this  recalled  them.  There  was  such  an 
atmosphere  of  deference,  of  restraint,  of  rigid  etiquette 
at  once  obvious  and  unconscious,  such  a  straining 
desire  to  please  and  to  acquit  one's  self  well,  and  the 
conversation  was  all  in  low  tones,  almost  in  whispers . 

SI 


John    Van    Burcn,    Politician 

"  Aren't  those  folding  doors  ever  closed  ?"  he  asked 
Wilson.  "Doesn't  Mr.  Coulter  want  privacy  at 
times?" 

''Never  when  I've  been  here.  I  am  told  those 
doors  have  not  been  closed  since  Mr.  Coulter  be- 
came boss.  Everybody  can  see  who  is  talking  to 
him.  That's  one  thing  which  enables  him  to  dis- 
pose of  so  much  business;  whoever  occupies  that 
chair  next  his  knows  that  fifty  men  are  impatiently 
waiting  for  him  to  get  through  and  vacate.  Then 
all  the  other  men  know  it  is  not  Mr.  Coulter  who  is 
taking  up  their  time  keeping  them  waiting,  but  the 
man  who  sits  and  keeps  on  talking." 

Man  after  man  in  quick  succession  took  the  chair 
beside  Mr.  Coulter.  There  was  no  hand-shaking 
there.  As  one  man  got  up  another  sat  down;  as 
soon  as  the  new  man  sat  down  he  began  talking 
at  Mr.  Coulter's  ear.  As  well  as  Van  Buren  could 
observe,  Mr.  Coulter  was  oblivious  of  the  coming 
and  the  going.  His  face  never  moved.  His  right 
ear  turned  towards  the  changing  chair,  he  looked 
vacantly  at  a  corner  of  the  ceiling,  occasionally 
dropping  his  gaze  to  his  thumbs  which  extended 
upward  from  his  clasped  hands.  When  the  man 
in  the  other  chair  talked  over  a  minute  or  two  Mr. 
Coulter  twiddled  his  thumbs  in  impatience.  He 
might  as  well  have  been  an  image  except  for  the 
change  of  gaze  and  the  twiddling  thumbs.  After 
the  other  man  had  talked  and  talked  until  he  stopped 
Mr.  Coulter  evidently  said  something.  His  lips 
moved,  and  he  even  sometimes  looked  at  the  man 
in  the  other  chair  for  the  few  seconds  it  took  him  to 
speak,  only  to  return  his  gaze  to  the  far-off  ceiling 

52 


John    Van    Burcn,    Politician 

corner.  Van  Buren  could  not  hear  the  sound  of  his 
voice,  but  he  noticed  that  the  chair  promptly  had  a 
new  occupant  after  Mr.  Coulter's  lips  had  stopped 
moving. 

Once  the  occupant  of  the  other  chair  continued  to 
talk  after  Mr.  Coulter  had  spoken;  he  might  as  well 
have  talked  to  a  wooden  image.  Mr.  Coulter  paid 
no  more  attention  to  him,  and  soon  realizing,  from 
the  murmur  in  the  other  room,  the  breach  of  eti- 
quette he  was  committing,  the  business  man — for 
every  politician  knew  better — hurriedly  departed. 
He  had  had  a  full  hearing  before  the  highest  tribunal. 
He  had  promptly  received  a  decision,  and  what  else 
was  left  ?  That  was  all  anybody  received,  high  or 
low,  district  leader,  justice  of  the  Supreme  Court,  or 
day  laborer.  Had  he  gone  to  the  State  Court  of 
Appeals  at  Albany,  or  the  United  States  Supreme 
Court  at  Washington,  he  would  have  received  no 
more  than  a  decision,  and  he  would  have  had  to 
expend  hundreds  or,  much  more  likely,  thousands 
of  dollars  for  lawyers,  briefs,  printed  books  on 
appeal,  and  other  disbursements.  He  would  have 
had  years  of  anxiety  and  delay,  and  would  have 
received  nothing  more  at  the  end,  perhaps,  than 
permission  to  start  over  again  in  the  lowest  court. 

The  men  who  came  to  Mr.  Coulter  at  Tammany 
Hall  were  of  the  t3^e  of  the  famous  East  Side  jurist 
who  asked  the  President  of  the  United  States, 
''What  is  the  Constitution  between  friends?"  when 
the  President  was  explaining  why  he  would  not  sign 
a  private  bill  because  of  its  unconstitutionality. 
These  men  had  no  understanding  or  patience  with 
the  technicalities   and   delays  of  the  law,   or  the 

53 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

red  tape  of  governmental  affairs,  or  the  dignity  of 
statesmen.  Their  mental  attitude  may  be  likened 
to  another  anecdote  of  the  same  jurist.  Having 
been  sworn  in  after  his  election  to  the  House  of 
Representatives,  he  sauntered  over  to  the  Senate, 
and  seeing  the  frigid  Senator  Evarts  in  his  seat, 
slapped  him  on  the  shoulder,  and  said : 

"  I  saw  your  motto,  senator,  in  one  of  the  Sunday 
papers — '  The  eagle  who  catches  no  flies.'  That  was 
not  the  way  it  read,  because  it  was  in  Latin,  but  a 
friend  of  mine  told  me  that  is  what  it  meant.  I 
like  the  idea,  and  T  am  having  one  made  for  me 
that  I'll  have  put  in  the  Congressional  Directory. 
Mine  '11  be,  '  No  flies  on  me.' " 

"You  see  one  reason  why  Mr.  Coulter  is  strong," 
continued  Wilson  to  Van  Buren.  "He  attends  to 
business  and  disposes  of  matters  promptly  and  de- 
cisively, and  he  keeps  his  word." 

"Why,  those  are  the  qualities  I  look  for  in  the 
head  of  a  railroad  or  a  factory  or  a  bank,"  replied 
Van  Buren,  "not  from  a  politician." 

"Haven't  you  learned  yet  that  politics  in  New 
York  is  a  business  and  requires  business  methods 
to  succeed  ?  That  is  the  reason  there  is,  and  always 
will  be,  a  boss.  What  dividends  would  a  railroad 
pay  if  the  stockholders  had  to  be  called  together 
and  consulted  on  every  proposition  from  the  build- 
ing of  a  culvert  to  the  appointment  of  a  new 
track  -  walker  or  a  car  inspector  ?  There  is  no 
difference  between  the  board  of  directors  of  a 
big  corporation  and  the  executive  committee  of 
Tammany  Hall,  except  that  the  members  of  the 
executive  committee   give   more   time   and   atten- 

54 


John    Van    'Btxretif    Politician 

tion  to  their  business  than  the  average  directors. 
Every  store  or  bank  or  business  of  any  kind 
has  to  have  a  head,  some  man  of  executive 
ability  to  decide  quickly,  to  manage  its  affairs. 
What  is  he  but  a  boss,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder 
if  the  directors  and  presidents  of  the  average  rail- 
road steal  quite  as  much  in  proportion  from  the 
public,  and  maybe  from  their  stockholders,  as  do 
Mr.  Coulter  and  his  executive  committee." 

''I  never  thought  of  that  before." 

''Do  you  recall  the  names  of  the  committee  who 
managed  the  campaign  of  a  recent  fusion  candidate  ? 
One  member  was  the  head  of  a  large  mercantile  house 
which  made  its  fortune  by  custom-house  frauds  and 
had  enough  influence  when  it  was  found  out  to 
compromise  with  the  government  for  about  ten  per 
cent,  of  what  it  stole.  The  chairman  inherited  his 
money  from  his  father  who  bribed  the  board  of 
aldermen  and  secured  an  original  franchise.  An- 
other member  is  a  manager  of  the  real  estate  of  a 
rich  church  and  has  no  scruples  to  lease  its  property 
to  gamblers  and  worse.  Another  member  makes 
a  specialty  of  fitting  up  disorderly  houses.  The 
blackmail  of  saloon-keepers  by  the  police  was  never 
known  until  captains  made  by  a  reform  police  board 
invented  it  to  secure  another  source  of  revenue  to 
pay  for  their  promotion.  Protection  is  never  so 
high  as  under  a  reform  administration,  for  more 
men  have  to  be  fixed  and  there  is  no  central  reg- 
ulating power." 

''  But  aren't  the  reformers  men  of  more  education 
and  standing?" 

*'Yes,  but  they  do  not  understand  the  people. 

'  55 


John    Van    Burcn^    Politician 

Take  a  little  illustration  from  an  incident  in  Judge 
Murphy's  district  last  fall.  Sage  McCarthy,  the 
junk  man  of  Paradise  Park,  had  registered  and 
voted  the  straight  Tammany  tickets  since  the  Know- 
nothing  days,  for  he  was  one  of  the  first  Irish  immi- 
grants. He  had  faithfully  attended  every  primary 
and  every  election.  He  died  of  the  natural  weak- 
ness of  old  age  just  the  Sunday  before  election.  The 
funeral  took  place  on  election  day,  after  the  rush  of 
the  early  morning  voting  was  over.  The  funeral 
procession  solemnly  started  from  the  tenement 
where  the  McCarthys  lived  over  the  junk-shop  in  the 
basement.  In  front  of  the  polling-place  the  hearse 
and  the  carriages  stopped.  Patrick  McCarthy,  the 
eldest  son,  who  had  voted  on  his  own  name  early  in 
the  morning,  stepped  out  of  the  mourners'  carriage, 
and  while  the  crowd  around  the  polling  place  rev- 
erently bared  their  heads  out  of  respect  for  the  dead, 
Patrick  went  in  and,  imperturbed,  voted  the  straight 
Tammany  ticket  on  his  father's  name.  No  Re- 
publican inspector  or  watcher  dreamed  of  challeng- 
ing his  vote,  but  if  one  of  those  Fifth  Avenue  re- 
formers had  been  there  he  would  have  had  Patrick, 
Junior,  arrested." 

The  crowd  had  thinned  out  somewhat  when  Mr. 
Coulter,  looking  over  those  remaining  in  the  main 
room,  saw  Wilson  and  Van  Buren.  He  left  his 
desk  and,  walking  out  to  where  they  sat,  cordially 
shook  hands  with  them.  "Glad  to  see  you  here, 
Mr.  Van  Buren,"  he  said.  ''  Is  there  anything  I  can 
do  for  you  ?  Mr.  Wilson  is  an  old  friend  of  ours.  He 
is  going  to  address  our  Fourth-of-July  celebration 
next  week.     If  you  are  staying  in  the  city  then  we 

56 


John    Van    Btrrcn,    Politician 

should  be  glad  to  have  you  with  us.  Your  father 
was  one  of  the  honored  friends  of  our  organization." 

Van  Buren  was  naturally  gratified  at  the  at- 
tention. 

''  I  shall  be  pleased  to  accept  your  invitation,  Mr. 
Coulter.  I  called  only  to  pay  my  respects.  I  have 
learned  a  great  deal  to-day.  Politics  is  very  dif- 
ferent down  here  from  what  it  is  up  there  with  us." 

The  men  remaining  in  the  room  looked  with  envy 
at  this  marked  token  of  consideration,  and  the 
door-keeper  bowed  as  Wilson  and  Van  Buren,  having 
said  good- afternoon  to  Mr.  Coulter,  turned  and  walk- 
ed out.     They  met  Judge  Murphy  coming  in. 

"Let  us  walk  up  to  the  Democratic  Club,"  said 
Wilson,  "and  take  dinner  and  spend  the  evening 
there.  That  will  make  a  crowded  day  for  you  and 
show  you  the  full  scale  of  the  organization's  daily 
life." 


VII 


I  HE  two  walked  up  Irving  Place  to  Gram- 
ercy  Park  and  stopped  to  look  at  the 
house  Governor  Tilden  built,  one  of  the 
fine  mansions  of  New  York  in  its  day 
and  now  a  fashionable  boarding-house. 
"I  remember  the  governor  dining  at  our  house 
when  I  was  a  small  boy,"  said  Van  Buren.  *'My 
father  was  rather  with  the  anti-Tilden  wing  of  the 
party,  though  of  course  he  always  supported  the 
governor  after  he  was  nominated.  One  day  my 
father  took  me  to  Albany,  and  we  called  on  the 
governor  at  his  office  in  the  old  Capitol  and  took 
Itmch  with  him  at  the  old  executive  mansion  on 
State  Street.  How  mysterious  he  was!  He  talked 
in  whispers,  and  gave  you  the  impression  that  every- 
thing was  of  vast  importance  and  must  be  kept 
secret,  and  that  he  paid  you  a  great  compliment 
and  showed  his  confidence  in  you  by  whispering 
that  it  was  cloudy  and  looked  like  rain.  I  remember 
that  after  an  interval  of  silence  and  evident  delibera- 
tion as  to  whether  my  father  could  be  trusted,  the 
governor  leaned  over  the  table  at  limcheon  and 
whispered,  '  The  prospects  are  bright,  senator ;  the 
people  are  with  us.'  At  once  he  shrank  back  as  if 
he  had  said  too  much.  A  more  outspoken  and  di- 
rect man  would  have  taken  his  seat  as  President." 

58 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

From  Gramercy  Park  they  walked  over  to  Fifth 
Avenue  and  north  past  the  Manhattan  Club  in  the 
old  Stewart  house.  As  they  went  along,  Wilson 
explained. 

"The  Democratic  Club  owes  its  prosperity  to  the 
failure  of  Mr.  Coulter  to  secure  control  of  the 
Manhattan  Club.  One  of  his  few  weaknesses  is  his 
constant  catering  to  men  of  social  standing.  He 
does  everything  he  can  to  get  them  in  the  organiza- 
tion; they  can  have  any  office  they  wish  from 
commissioner  to  congress.  There  are .  several  as- 
sembly districts  where  he  always  makes  it  a  point  to 
nominate  young  men  with  well-known,  distinguished 
American  names.  He  is  not  after  their  money;  the 
organization  will  pay  all  their  campaign  expenses  if 
they  cannot  afford  it.  He  wants  their  names  and 
their  company.  I  believe  he  has  aspirations  to  be 
a  national  leader,  and  any  man  with  an  honored 
Democratic  name  need  only  say  what  he  wants. 
There's  an  opportunity  for  you.  Van  Buren.  You'll 
see  him  at  the  club — he  lives  there ;  and  if  Schenec- 
tady is  a  little  slow  and  quiet  for  you  tell  him  what 
you  want  and  come  down  here.  I  would  be  glad  to 
do  it,  but,  somehow,  the  historic  and  honored  name 
of  Wilson  doesn't  seem  to  appeal  to  him,  and  in  re- 
turn for  my  hint  he  tells  me  to  stay  in  Schoharie  and 
build  up  the  organization  up  the  State.  One  thing 
I  will  say,  he  never  neglects  sending  me  a  check 
to  help  me  do  it." 

Wilson  stopped  to  speak  to  a  chance  acquaintance 
who  hailed  him,  but  in  a  moment  he  had  overtaken 
Van  Buren  and  resumed  his  talk. 

'*  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  Mr.  Coulter  failed  to  capt- 

59 


John    Van    Bttrcn,    Politician 

ure  the  Manhattan  Club.  As  you  must  know,  for 
your  uncle  was  one  of  its  founders,  the  Manhattan  is  a 
respectable  club  to  which  belong  only  the  Democrats 
who  can  speak  and  write  the  English  language  and 
don't  tuck  their  napkins  in  their  collars.  Among 
its  members  are  representatives  of  the  old  New  York 
families,  who  keep  up  the  club  because  their  fathers 
and  grandfathers  were  Democrats,  and  on  account 
of  the  cooking  and  the  wines,  which  used  to  be  the 
best  in  New  York.  The  Democratic  party  in  New 
York  City  is  composed  of  social  extremes — the  de- 
scendants of  the  old  Dutch  aristocracy  who  were 
opposed  to  the  English  before  and  during  the 
Revolution,  when  almost  all  the  English  in  the  colony 
were  Tories  and  afterwards  Federalists;  and  the 
descendants  of  the  old  Scotch  and  north  of  Ireland 
merchants,  who  regarded  the  Church  of  England  as 
an  imitation  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  hated  both 
of  them;  and  such  English  families  as  were  over- 
shadowed in  the  old  days  by  the  Phillipses,  the 
Delanceys,  the  Van  Rensselaers,  the  Van  Cortlandts, 
and  the  other  manor  holders.  The  Revolution 
ruined  the  dominant  English  families,  and  the  anti- 
English  proclivities  of  the  Democratic  party  made  it 
the  nattiral  place  for  all  the  old  anti-English  families. 
The  Republican  party  is  the  party  of  the  middle 
class,  the  manufacturers  and  the  shopkeepers,  the 
people  who  own  their  own  houses,  the  steady  church- 
goers and  pre-eminently  respectable,  who  want  a 
strong  government  to  favor  them  and  keep  down 
their  employes  and  the  poorer  classes  generally. 
The  lower  classes  naturally  side  with  the  aristocrats 
against  the  bourgeois.     It  is  a  natural  alliance — 

60 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

the  modern  Irishman  who  hates  England  to-day  and 
the  great-grandsons  of  the  Dutchmen  who  hated 
the  EngHsh  for  taking  New  Amsterdam  and  divers 
other  reasons.  But  here  we  are  at  the  Democratic 
Club." 

On  Fifth  Avenue,  almost  opposite  the  Vander- 
bilt  houses  and  a  few  doors  from  St.  Patrick's 
Cathedral,  is  a  high,  wide-front,  brown-stone  house 
the  kind  with  which  the  avenue  was  built  in  the 
sixties  and  seventies.  In  those  days  this  house  was 
one  of  the  finest.  It  had  become  old  of  its  kind. 
When  Mr.  Coulter  failed  to  elect  his  candidates  for 
board  of  managers  of  the  Iroquois  Club,  he  took  up 
the  Democratic  Club,  hitherto  a  struggling  organiza- 
tion, and  bought  this  house  for  it.  The  house  was 
redecorated  and  remodelled  at  an  expense  of  ninety 
thousand  dollars,  and  the  official  Tammany  archi- 
tects made  it  the  most  gorgeous  club  in  the  city.  As 
a  rule  the  clubs  of  the  better  class  are  severely  simple 
in  their  furnishings  and  decorations.  The  new  Demo- 
cratic Club  went  to  the  opposite  extreme.  The  order 
going  out  that  all  Tammany  office-holders  with  sal- 
aries of  over  one  thousand  two  hundred  dollars  a 
year  were  to  join  gave  a  huge  fund  of  initiation 
fees  and  dues  which  was  expended  under  Mr. 
Coulter's  direction.  The  walls  of  the  reception 
hall  were  clad  in  the  richest  satins  and  silks,  the 
ceiling  alone  cost  thousands  of  dollars,  and  the 
tapestries  and  curtains  thousands  more.  The  pre- 
vailing color  was  purple,  not  the  purple  of  the 
violet,  but  of  the  cardinal.  The  main  hall  floor 
was  covered  with  a  specially  woven  rug  displaying 
the  tiger's  head.     Above  the  huge  fireplace  was  the 

6i 


John    Van    Btjrcn,   Politician 

principal  feature  of  the  hall,  a  portrait  of  Mr. 
Coulter  larger  than  life.  A  chandelier  with  scores 
of  lights  hung  above  the  portrait  and  accentuated  it. 
In  front  of  the  fireplace  was  a  magnificent  tiger- 
skin  rug,  and  a  large  tiger's  head  was  hung  in  the 
hall.  The  emblem  of  the  tiger  was  on  the  walls,  on 
the  china  and  the  silver — ever^^where. 

Back  of  the  main  hall  was  the  drinking-place,  or 
"caf-fay,"  as  it  was  called.  When  Van  Buren  and 
Wilson  arrived  the  cafe  was  crowded  with  prosper- 
ous-looking men  smoking  and  drinking.  They  all  sat 
with  their  faces  towards  the  door,  so  that  they  might 
be  prompt  to  see  Mr.  Coulter  on  his  arrival  and  be 
sure  that  he  saw  them,  for  regular  attendance  at  the 
club  was  one  of  the  requisites  of  favor  with  the  boss. 

Van  Buren  was  accustomed  to  the  ways  of  the 
University  Club,  where  he  usually  put  up  on  his 
occasional  visits  to  New  York.  Here  he  noted 
with  curious  interest  that  whenever  a  man  treated 
he  pulled  a  roll  of  bills  out  of  his  waistcoat-pocket 
and  paid  for  what  he  ordered,  besides  giving  the 
waiter  a  liberal  tip.  He  also  noted  that»the  pay- 
ments were  made  in  bills  of  large  denominations, 
fifty  and  one-hundred  dollar  bills  being  the  usual  ten- 
der, with  fifty-cent  and  dollar  tips  to  the  waiter. 

Wilson  and  Van  Buren  sat  down  on  one  of  the 
red  plush  lounges.  The  crowd  paid  no  attention  to 
them.  Everybody  was  expectantly  awaiting  the 
arrival  of  Mr.  Coulter. 

"They  all  gather  here  to  do  homage,"  said  Wil- 
son. "  It  is  the  same  instinct  that  gathers  the  court- 
iers around  the  European  thrones.  Any  number 
of  people  would  like  to  have  a  monarchy  in  the 

62 


John    Van    Barcnt   Politician 

United  States  if  they  were  sure  of  a  place  at  court. 
It  is  a  little  raw  and  crude  here,  but  what  would  you 
have?  The  nice  gradations  of  obsequiousness  in 
manner  and  the  punctilious  observance  of  the  rela- 
tive steps  of  court  rank  cannot  be  acquired  in  the 
few  years  since  most  of  these  men  stopped  digging 
trenches  or  tending  bar.  They  have  learned  rapidly, 
and  by  another  generation  the  rules  of  municipal 
precedence  will  be  worked  out.  It's  already  been 
done  in  Washington ;  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the 
Western  senators  and  cabinet  members  enjoy  it 
hugely.  They  don't  mind  the  kotowing  to  those 
above  them  so  long  as  they  have  the  pleasure  of 
snubbing  the  congressmen's  and  postmasters'  wives. 

** Anyhow,  this  levee  to-night  does  not  differ 
much  from  the  daily  scenes  in  the  offices  of  a  bank 
or  any  large  corporation,  where  the  merchants, 
brokers,  and  other  suitors  sit  around,  hat  in  hand, 
waiting  their  turn  in  the  dispensing  of  favors.  The 
same  thing  takes  place  at  every  club,  only,  as  I  said, 
it's  a  little  more  raw  here  and  you  see  the  workings 
of  human  nature  unadorned.  It  isn't  all  the  dis- 
trict leaders  and  political  heelers,  by  any  means. 
The  presidents  of  some  pretty  big  corporations  find 
it  to  their  interest  to  drop  in  here  occasionally. 
Bankers,  financiers,  judges,  and  men  whom  you 
would  never  consider  in  such  a  connection,  think 
enough  of  their  worldly  and  political  well-being  to 
do  their  homage  with  regularity. 

''That  is  one  thing  Mr.  Coulter  insists  on.  A 
man  who  thinks  he  is  too  good  for  this  outfit  had 
better  not  look  for  favors.  The  social  side  is  where 
Mr.  Coulter  is  sensitive.     Political  knocks  he  doesn't 

63 


John    Van    Burcn,   Politician 

mind.  He  has  been  used  to  them  all  his  life.  A 
punch  on  the  nose  wouldn't  make  him  bear  a  grudge 
— it  would  rather  remind  him  of  old  times.  But  this 
social  act  is  new,  and  he's  very  sensitive  that  every- 
body takes  it  seriously.  He's  an  idea  that  the  rea- 
son Tammany  men  have  such  a  bad  name  is  that 
more  of  them  don't  wear  dress  suits.  There  is 
something  in  that.  When  a  man  whose  grand- 
father had  a  dress  suit  steals,  he  gets  away  with  a  lot, 
and  there's  a  certain  6clat  to  it  that  doesn't  attach 
to  the  old  vulgar  Tammany  methods.  Mr.  Coul- 
ter proposes  to  reform  appearances,  at  any  rate. 
''What  an  opportunity  there  is  here  to  study  the 
transformation  process  at  first  hand,  to  see  society 
in  the  chrysalis  stage  from  which  fine  gentlemen 
will  develop  in  a  generation  or  two!  A  few  years 
ago  these  men  were  human  caterpillars." 

Wilson  pointed  out  the  more  prominent  of  the 
men  sitting  around  waiting  the  coming  of  the  boss. 
"There  is  a  young  fellow  who  wants  to  go  to  con- 
gress. He's  a  Harvard  man,  graduated  only  two 
years  ago.  His  people  have  money.  I  think  the 
boss  will  send  him.  With  him  is  a  former  theatrical 
manager  now  engaged  in  getting  out  of  this  aspiring 
youth  whatever  he  will  stand  for.  Over  by  the 
fireplace  is  a  gang  of  contractors.  Some  one  of  the 
men  around  that  table  has  his  fist  in  every  big 
contract,  public  or  private,  from  laying  street  rail- 
roads to  extending  the  pier  line  or  putting  up  the 
new  schools.  Those  contractors,  like  the  police, 
have  no  politics.  They  are  with  the  party  in  power. 
When  Tammany  is  in,  the  Tammany  member  of 
the  firm  does  the  business;  under  the  reformers 

64 


John    Van    Burcnt    Politician 

some  other  name  appears,  but  it's  the  same  concern. 
It's  funny  the  way  the  reformers  denounce  the 
thievery  of  Tammany  contractors  and  then  go  on 
and  do  business  with  the  same  men." 

*' Who  is  that  sleek  individual  walking  about  the 
hall?"  asked  Van  Buren. 

''That,"  answered  Wilson,  following  Van  Buren's 
gaze,  ''is  Mr.  Coulter's  handy  man,  and  he'll  be  his 
ruin  if  a  stop  is  not  put  to  it.  Notice  the  way  he 
is  watching  the  door  to  be  the  first  to  greet  the 
boss.  How  he  ever  worked  himself  in  I  don't  know, 
but  everybody  hates  him.  He  is  a  sort  of  go-be- 
tween or  jackal  who  collects  the  rake-off  and  attends 
to  Mr.  Coulter's  financial  business  for  him.  We 
are  all  afraid  of  him,  for  he's  an  adroit  liar  and  he 
has  the  boss's  ear." 

The  entrance  doors  were  flung  open  by  the  liveried 
hall-men,  and  everybody  rose  as  the  boss,  accom- 
panied by  Commissioner  Mahoney,  entered,  the  com- 
missioner three  steps  behind.  Club  servants  lined 
up  against  the  walls;  the  sleek  individual  rushed 
effusively  to  be  the  first  to  get  to  the  boss,  the 
justice  of  the  Supreme  Court  being  not  far  behind. 
The  men  from  the  cafe  gathered  in  the  background 
like  a  group  to  be  photographed,  every  man  trying 
to  be  as  conspicuous  as  possible  that  the  boss  might 
know  he  was  faithful  in  his  attendance  at  court. 
All  conversation  ceased,  and  there  was  a  deferential 
hush  while  the  boss  went  into  the  main  reception- 
room^  and,  seating  himself  on  the  crimson  divan, 
gave  audience  to  the  waiting  crowd.  The  crowd  at 
Tammany  Hall  had  specified  business  to  transact. 
The  men  at  the  club  simply  wanted  Mr.  Coulter  to 

65 


John    Van    Bttrcnt    Politician 

know  that  they  were  there  in  attendance.  His  eye 
glanced  over  them  and  noted  the  few  who  had  busi- 
ness with  him.  By-and-by  he  went  up-stairs  to  his 
private  apartments,  for,  though  he  had  a  house  near 
by,  his  real  living-place  was  the  second  floor  of  the 
club,  especially  fitted  for  his  use. 

Wilson  and  Van  Buren  stayed  to  dine  at  the  club. 
The  dining-room  was  crowded,  as  it  was  generally 
known  that  Mr.  Coulter  would  be  there.  The 
diners  all  wore  evening  clothes  and  had  the  air  of 
being  obviously  dressed  up.  It  was  plain  that  they 
were  not  accustomed  to  it.  A  few  had  diamonds 
in  their  white  lawn  ties,  but  so  many  of  them  had 
tucked  their  napkins  under  their  chins  that  it  was 
difficult  to  determine  that  point.  Mr.  Coulter  sat 
at  a  table  with  Commissioner  Mahoney  in  earnest 
conversation.  The  dinner  was  short,  and  on  their 
way  out  from  the  dining-room  Mr.  Coulter  noticed 
Wilson  and  Van  Buren  and  walked  over  to  their 
table.  Commissioner  Mahoney  knew  Wilson,  and 
Mr.  Coulter  introduced  him  to  Van  Buren.  They 
went  down-stairs  to  the  main  hall  where  the  throng 
had  increased.  Mr.  Coulter  stood  on  the  tiger  rug 
under  his  portrait,  while  one  by  one  the  attending 
politicians,  judges,  office-seekers,  and  contractors 
came  and  paid  homage. 

''This  crowd  reminds  me  of  our  old  friend  the 
East  Side  jurist,"  commented  Wilson.  **  You  know, 
he  was  district  judge  in  the  times  when  the  judges 
did  not  have  to  be  lawyers.  I  met  him  in  the 
Hoffman  House  a  few  evenings  ago  beaming  with 
jubilation." 

'"Congratulate   me,    assemblyman,'   he    said,    *I 

66 


John    Van    BtJren,    Politician 

have  been  admitted  to  the  practice  of  the  honorable 
profession  of  the  law,  and  I  am  a  genuine  attorney 
and  counsellor.'  " 

*'Why  did  you  go  to  all  that  trouble?"  I  asked 
him. 

"'  It  is  a  matter  of  self-respect,'  replied  the  judge, 
with  dignity.  *  I  am  not  going  to  be  a  grafter  any 
more,  but  I'll  dispense  counsel  and  advice  for  the 
legitimate  K.  F.'s,  just  like  my  friends  Evarts  and 
Choate  and  the  rest  of  them.  When  a  man  wants 
my  influence  or  advice  now  he  can  come  to  the 
office  and  plank  down  the  K.  F.'s.' 

"That  rather  puzzled  me.  I  had  never  heard  of 
the  K.  F.'s,  and  I  inquired  what  they  were. 

''Somewhat  scornful  at  my  ignorance,  the  judge 
explained. 

"'K.  F.'s!  You  don't  know  what  K.  F.'s  is? 
Why,  that's  what  statesmen  and  counsellors  call 
'em.     K.  F.'s  is  counsel  fees.'" 


VIII 

'T  was  the  Fourth  of  July — the  day- 
sacred  to  the  remembrance  of  the  dec- 
laration of  our  national  independ- 
ence. Tammany  Hall  was  gaudily 
decorated  for  the  occasion.  Profuse- 
ly draped  with  American  flags  were  the  platform 
and  main  gallery,  while  the  Doric  columns  were 
encircled  with  bannerets,  upon  which  were  at- 
tached coats  of  arms  of  the  thirteen  original  States. 
The  State  of  New  York  occupied  the  most  con- 
spicuous position  among  the  galaxy  of  emblems, 
its  insignia  being  suspended  from  the  arch  above 
the  stage.  From  the  dome  to  the  various  columns 
lines  were  suspended,  upon  which  fluttered  the  en- 
signs of  the  American  navy.  In  the  rear  of  the 
stage  an  immense  flag  was  draped  to  represent  an 
American  shield  with  the  stars  concentrated  in  the 
centre.  On  the  front  of  the  stage  was  a  short  pole 
crowned  with  a  liberty  cap  of  the  style  worn  by  the 
sansculottes  in  the  French  Revolution.  On  either 
side  were  the  old  Tammany  banners  of  the  Indian 
tribes  and  chiefs. 

The  great  hall  was  crowded  to  its  fullest  capacity. 
A  band  of  music  was  playing  national  airs,  and  the 
vast  assemblage  was  wild  with  patriotic  enthusiasm 
— the  lively  beginning  of  the  Fourth- of -July  cele- 

68 


John    Van    B«ten,    Politician 

bration  by  the  Tammany  braves.  As  the  band 
played,  the  patriotic  outbursts  grew  more  tumultu- 
ous. Rousing  cheers  were  given  for  "The  Boss," 
followed  by  rounds  of  cheers  for  the  lesser  bosses  of 
the  respective  districts.  Suddenly  the  band  began 
to  play  "Hail  to  the  Chief,"  as  Mr.  Coulter,  attired 
in  a  Prince  Albert  coat,  with  a  glossy  silk  hat  on  his 
massive  head,  entered,  leaning  on  the  arm  of  the  chief 
sachem.  They  were  followed  by  other  sachems, 
all  with  their  hats  on  and  the  ancient  bands  of 
ofQce  around  their  shoulders  and  across  their  breasts. 
All  were  clad  alike  in  the  frock  coats  and  silk  hats  of 
Tammany  statesmen.  Simultaneously  they  took 
off  their  hats  to  the  American  flag,  while  the  liberty 
pole  was  raised  in  the  air  and  the  band  played  "  The 
Star  -  Spangled  Banner."  Then,  as  if  the  whole 
programme  had  been  rehearsed  for  a  stage  setting, 
a  burly  fellow  with  a  huge  black  mustache  jumped 
to  his  feet,  and,  waving  his  hat  above  his  head, 
shouted,  "  Three  cheers  for  Coulter!"  The  audience 
responded  vociferously.  Slowly  and  with  great 
dignity  Mr.  Coulter  rose  to  his  feet.  Instantly  the 
same  exuberant  person  with  the  large  black  mus- 
tache yelled  out,  "Three  cheers  for  our  honored 
leader!"  Prolonged  and  deafening  cheers  followed, 
with  a  rousing  tiger. 

In  a  low  tone  the  honored  leader  expressed  his 
thanks  for  the  reception  given  him. 

"We  meet  to  renew  our  fealty  to  the  institutions 
of  the  great  republic,  which  has  no  stronger  support 
than  this  venerable  organization.  Its  members, 
whether  native  or  adopted  citizens,  know  no  other 
allegiance,  and  as  long  as  Tammany  Hall  stands 

69 


John    Van    Burcnt    Politician 

they  will  gather  to  celebrate  on  this  anniversary  the 
birth  of  the  land  of  the  free  and  the  home  of  the 
brave." 

"Ah,  wasn't  that  a  great  speech!"  exclaimed  one, 
with  a  burst  of  enthusiasm. 

**  What  a  fine  man!"  said  another. 

"  What  a  great  leader!"  remarked  a  third. 

The  reading  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence 
was  next  in  order.  A  young  edition  of  the  black- 
mustached  propounder  of  cheers,  with  square 
shoulders  and  a  self-confident  air,  rose  among  the 
politicians  seated  upon  the  stage,  advanced  to  the 
front  of  the  platform,  and  with  a  sweet,  rich  brogue 
fervently  read  the  immortal  document.  The  read- 
ing was  followed  by  a  round  of  cheers,  after  which  the 
band  again  played  "The  Star-Spangled  Banner." 

Congressman  Forrest,  the  idol  of  the  city  Democ- 
racy, came  to  the  front  of  the  stage  and  waved  his 
hand  aloft.  He  carried  himself  with  a  haughty  air, 
but  it  was  natural  and  unaffected.  He  had  the 
martial  bearing  of  a  typical  soldier  and  the  courtly 
graces  of  a  statesman  of  the  old  school.  He  was  tall 
and  spare  and  straight  as  an  arrow.  His  head  was 
covered  with  jet-black  hair — a  striking  contrast  to 
his  silvery  mustache  of  military  cut.  To  him  was 
assigned  the  principal  speech  of  the  day.  It  was  a 
speech  replete  with  patriotic  utterances  and  eloquent 
appeals  for  party  fealty.  While  launching  in- 
vectives and  sarcasms  against  the  opposite  party, 
he  regaled  his  hearers  with  humorous  stories  and 
witticisms,  keeping  them  alternating  between  ap- 
plause and  laughter.  His  peroration  finished,  he 
sat  down  amid  cheers. 

70 


John    Van    Barcn^    Politician 

Once  more  the  band  played  "The  Star-Spangled 
Banner."  The  spark  of  patriotism  kindled  in  the 
breast  of  the  masses  in  the  body  of  the  hall  by  the 
orator  was  fanned  into  flame  by  the  inspiring  music. 
They  sprang  to  their  feet,  waving  handkerchiefs, 
hats,  and  canes  above  their  heads,  and  accompanying 
the  music  with  their  voices,  until  the  hall  echoed  and 
re-echoed  with  the  discordant  sounds. 

Van  Buren  had  come  down  expecting  to  meet 
Wilson  on  the  platform.  He  had  never  been  in  the 
hall  before,  and  he  had  never  heard  a  political 
speech  that  had  begun  to  have  such  an  inspiring 
effect  upon  him  as  the  one  he  had  just  heard. 
Would  he  ever  dare  to  aspire  to  such  a  height  ? 

The  minutes  passed  quickly,  but  still  Assembly- 
man Wilson,  who  was  scheduled  as  the  next  speaker, 
failed  to  appear.  The  crowd  soon  became  clamor- 
ous, and  to  allay  their  impatience  the  glee  club 
amused  them  with  songs.  Still  Wilson  did  not  ap- 
pear, and  after  several  more  glees  had  been  sung 
the  crowd,  anxious  to  get  at  the  promised  collation, 
became  unruly. 

"I'll  bet  he's  off  again,"  said  some  one  on  the 
stage. 

"He  never  shows  up  when  he's  wanted,"  said 
another. 

Various  other  uncomplimentary  remarks  of  a 
similar  nature  were  uttered.  Mr.  Coulter  looked 
perplexed. 

"Mr.  Van  Buren,"  he  said,  placing  his  hand  gently 
on  the  young  man's  shoulder  and  speaking  in  a  low 
voice,  "won't  you  kindly  make  the  speech  in  place 
of  Mr.  Wilson,  who  has  not  shown  up?" 

71 


John    Van    Burcnt    Politician 

In  a  flash  Van  Buren  saw  that  a  wonderful  oppor- 
tunity had  come  to  him  to  place  himself  prominently 
before  the  public.  Yet  he  was  nearly  on  the  point 
of  declining,  fearing  failure,  when  he  heard  a  kindly 
whisper  in  his  ear,  "Brace  up,  old  man;  this  is  the 
opportunity  of  your  life,  and  I'll  bet  a  thousand  to 
one  you  will  do  it  up  brown." 

The  words  roused  him  and  gave  him  courage. 
He  knew  he  was  young  and  unknown.  He  knew 
the  disadvantage  of  following  so  brilliant  an  orator 
and  so  popular  a  favorite  as  the  speaker  who  had 
preceded  him.  He  knew  how  disastrous  to  his 
political  hopes  would  be  a  failure.  The  thought 
stiffened  him  and  put  him  on  his  mettle.  He  ad- 
vanced to  the  front  of  the  platform  as  cool  and  self- 
possessed  as  if  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of  making 
public  speeches  all  his  life. 

He  was  introduced  by  Mr.  Coulter,  who  told  the 
audience  that  he  was  a  new  and  valuable  recruit 
to  the  organization  from  Schenectady,  and  would 
ably  entertain  them.  Then  there  was  the  customary 
reception  of  three  cheers  and  a  tiger.  The  band 
struck  up  the  popular  air,  "Fourteen  Miles  from 
Schenectady  to  Troy,"  and  the  crowd  yelled  with 
delight. 

With  the  true  instinct  of  the  natural  born  orator, 
the  substance  of  his  speech  flashed  to  his  mind, 
but,  for  all  that,  the  strains  of  the  music  still  ringing 
in  his  ears,  the  tumultuous  shouting  of  the  crowd, 
the  stifling  atmosphere,  and  the  sight  of  the  sea 
of  uplifted  faces  looking  expectantly  at  him  slightly 
disconcerted  him.  He  began  to  speak  in  a  low  and 
tremulous  voice.     A  score  of  voices  in  the  rear  of 

72 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

the  hall  shouted,  "Louder!  Louder!"  He  cast  his 
eyes  in  that  direction,  but  the  glare  of  the  July  sun 
blazing  through  the  front  windows  obscured  his 
sight  and  confused  his  thoughts.  His  imagination 
transformed  the  gaze  of  the  hundreds  of  upturned 
faces  into  a  legion  of  grinning,  mocking  faces.  A 
mist  came  before  his  eyes,  his  brain  reeled,  a  tremor 
seized  him,  and  he  realized  that  he  was  about  to 
collapse. 

"Great  Scott!  He's  going  to  break  down!" 
whispered  some  one. 

"He'd  better  go  back  to  Schenectady,"  muttered 
another. 

He  felt  he  was  about  to  fail,  and  made  a  tre- 
mendous effort  to  stand  erect.  Then  the  mist  before 
his  eyes  lifted.  In  a  moment  all  fear  and  timidity 
vanished.  "No  man  can  be  too  proud,"  he  began, 
* '  of  being  an  American  citizen.  Under  the  American 
flag  there  exist  no  such  class  or  social  distinctions 
as  in  the  monarchial  countries  of  the  Old  World. 
Here  all  enjoy  equal  rights  and  liberties,  whether 
they  come  from  Germany  or  Ireland  or  Russia  or 
Italy  or  Kamtchatka  or — Schenectady." 

The  humorous  reference  to  his  birthplace  was 
appreciated  by  the  audience,  and  caused  a  ripple 
of  laughter  which  dispelled  any  remaining  anxiety 
that  existed  about  the  young  man  from  Schenectady 
breaking  down. 

He  had  not  spoken  five  minutes  when  all  feeling  of 
prejudice  had  vanished.  His  personal  bearing  was 
commanding;  his  features  were  animated  and  his 
voice  was  melodious  and  sympathetic.  He  told 
of  the  dangers  and  hardships  incurred  by  the  early 

73 


John    Van    Bitrcnt    Politician 

settlers  of  this  country,  and  of  the  great  sacrifice 
of  blood  and  treasure  to  secure  our  national  inde- 
pendence. He  drew  tears  from  the  eyes  of  many 
when  he  depicted  single  instances  of  bravery,  and 
the  heroic  sacrifices  of  life  and  blood  by  the  Con- 
tinentals in  the  cause  of  freedom.  In  conclusion,  he 
made  an  appeal  to  their  patriotism  to  help  maintain 
inviolate  the  liberties  so  dearly  purchased,  and  to 
teach  their  children  to  cherish  and  venerate  the 
memory  of  their  ancestors,  who  had  so  nobly  fought 
for  the  great  principles  of  human  freedom. 

He  had  spoken  nearly  an  hour,  but  no  one  thought 
of  the  length  of  the  speech ;  he  had  held  the  audience 
spellbound  by  the  vigor  of  his  utterances  and  the 
charm  of  his  oratory.  When  he  was  about  to 
finish  the  interest  of  the  audience  was  so  intense 
that  they  cried,  "Go  on.  Go  on!"  He  spoke  a 
few  minutes  longer,  and  these  were  his  closing 
words : 

"So  long  as  the  principles  of  true  democracy  live 
in  the  hearts  of  men,  so  long  our  republican  govern- 
ment will  live.  Generations  will  pass  away,  the 
ages  will  roll  on;  but  the  nation's  independence  is 
established  on  a  basis  deep  and  broad  and  lasting. 
There  will  be  political  dissensions,  bitter  cam- 
paigns and  strifes  for  political  supremacy;  but  the 
foundations  of  the  government  will  continue  un- 
changed, unmoved,  unshaken — as  strong  and  stead- 
fast as  the  everlasting  hills.  This  Fourth  -  of  -  July 
celebration  will  be  maintained  with  the  same  pride 
and  enthusiasm  as  to-day,  and  the  American  flag,  so 
conspicuously  displayed  here  to-day,  will  ever  wave 
in  triumph  over  our  glorious  land." 

74 


John    Van    Barcn^    Politician 

Upon  the  conclusion  of  his  speech  the  applause 
shook  the  dome  of  the  hall.  Every  one  tried  to 
get  near  him.  Mr.  Coulter  was  the  first  to  grasp 
him  by  the  hand.  He  simply  said,  "  Thank  you, 
Mr.  Van  Buren,  for  entertaining  our  people  so  well." 


IX 


I  HE  next  morning  Commissioner  Ma- 
honey  dropped  in  at  the  Hoffman 
House  and  found  Van  Buren  read- 
ing the  newspaper  accounts  of  his 
speech  and  watching  the  passers-by 
on  Broadway. 

"Mr.  Coulter  thinks  very  highly  of  you,"  the 
commissioner  began.  "That  speech  of  yours  took. 
Why  don't  you  stay  here  and  locate  in  my  district? 
We'll  nominate  you  for  the  assembly  this  fall.  I 
won't  guarantee  an  election,  for  the  district  is  Re- 
publican, but  it's  full  of  I\Iugwumps  and  you  may 
catch  them.  Anyhow,  it  won't  do  you  any  harm 
if  you  are  defeated.  Open  a  law  -  office  somewhere 
down- town  and  I'll  see  that  you  get  enough  business 
and  references  to  keep  you  going.  We  want  more 
men  like  you." 

Van  Buren  was  surprised  at  the  rapidity  of  his 
political  progress.  Within  the  last  few  days  he 
had  met  the  leaders,  seen  at  first  hand  the  workings 
of  the  machine,  delivered  a  Fourth-of-July  oration, 
and  now  he  was  invited  to  become  a  candidate  for 
office. 

"You  are  too  fast  for  me,  commissioner,"  he 
replied.  "  I  won't  say  that  I  don't  like  it,  and  I  feel 
immensely    flattered.     But    wouldn't    your    voters 

76 


John    Van    Btiren,    Politician 

resent  having  a  carpet-bagger  from  Schenectady 
nominated  for  them?" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  They  would  rather  have  some 
outsider  than  one  of  themselves.  Your  name  is 
enough,  not  to  speak  of  the  kind  of  speech  you  can 
put  up.  I  won't  beat  about  the  bush.  I  like  yon 
personally,  but  it's  the  name  the  organization  is 
after.  If  I  didn't  think  nominating  you  would 
strengthen  the  organization  in  my  district  I'd  never 
suggest  it.  You  might  be  the  best  friend  I  had  in 
the  world,  but  if  your  candidacy  wouldn't  help  the 
ticket  I'd  be  against  it.  Our  attitude  in  the  National 
Convention  is  going  to  hurt  among  the  class  of  peo- 
ple who  live  on  Murray  Hill,  and  I  want  a  man  like 
you  to  stave  it  off.  You  won't  lose  no  matter  how 
your  personal  candidacy  results.  We'll  elect  our 
mayor  this  fall.  The  other  fellows  won't  split  the 
party  because  they  want  to  elect  the  President. 
And  there'll  be  enough  retainers  from  the  corpora- 
tion counsel's  office  let  alone  what  you  can  do  on 
your  own  account." 

''I'm  going  home  to-day,"  said  Van  Buren,  ''and 
I'll  think  it  over  and  let  you  know  in  a  few  days." 

The  vSouthwestern  Limited  landed  Van  Buren  at 
Albany  in  the  afternoon.  The  train  did  not  stop 
at  Schenectady,  and  Van  Buren  got  off  at  Albany 
and  went  up  to  the  Holland  Club  to  think  it  over 
before  going  home  to  discuss  it  with  his  mother. 
He  had  always  Hked  the  Holland  Club,  it  was  so 
comfortable  and  peaceful.  The  members  had  be- 
longed to  it  for  so  long  that  they  broke  up  into 
groups  like  family  parties.  There  was  a  political 
group  with  a  room  to  itself,  the  whist-players  who 

77 


John    Van    Barcnt    Politician 

met  and  dispersed  on  the  stroke  of  the  clock,  the 
bilHard  and  pool  room,  the  doctor's  room,  and  the 
library,  where  the  genealogists  and  antiquarians 
gathered  to  recount  the  sins  and  shortcomings  of 
Albany's  great  -  grandfathers.  Van  Buren  knew 
everybody. 

It  would  be  pleasant  to  spend  a  winter  in  Albany 
and  to  take  part  in  the  active  life  of  the  capital. 
What  a  contrast  it  would  be ;  indeed,  what  a  contrast 
the  men  sitting  around  the  old  mahogany  were  to 
the  rulers  of  New  York  with  whom  he  had  been 
spending  the  last  few  days!  And  what  future  was 
there  for  him  in  Schenectady,  or  Albany  either,  for 
that  matter?  These  men  around  the  table,  what 
had  they  accomplished — what  were  they  doing? 
They  all  had  grandfathers  and  nominal  occupations, 
though  they  were  supported  more  by  what  their 
grandfathers  left  than  by  what  they  earned.  How 
different  their  manners  and  their  habits!  Still,  they 
were  contented,  and  was  it  not  better  to  have  con- 
tentment than  ambition? 

"What's  this,  Van  Buren?"  asked  old  Major 
Doremus.  "How  do  you  like  wearing  the  tiger's 
skin?  Why  didn't  you  talk  the  ten  commandments 
to  those  fellows?     That's  what  they  need." 

"Oh,  it's  only  a  difference  in  locality  as  to  what 
commandments  fit  the  tightest." 

He  went  out  and  took  the  Schenectady  car  that 
passes  the  club  door.  He  found  his  mother  all  in- 
terest over  his  great  speech. 

"  I'm  so  glad  and  proud  of  your  success,  Van,"  she 
said,  affectionately.  "The  papers  are  full  of  it.  I 
have  copies  of  them  all  and  I  cut  out  your  speech  to 

78 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

put  it  in  the  scrap-book  I  used  to  keep  for  your 
father.  Here  are  the  accounts  of  his  speech  years 
ago.     It  has  pleased  me  so  much." 

"What  would  you  think  of  my  going  to  New 
York,  mother?  Mr.  Mahoney  has  offered  me  the 
nomination  for  assemblyman  of  his  district,  and  he 
wants  me  to  move  my  office  to  New  York  and 
practise  there." 

"Well,  I  don't  want  to  stand  in  your  way.  Van, 
and  it  may  be  for  the  best.  Conditions  have 
changed  from  what  they  were  in  your  father's  day. 
I  have  lived  my  life  here  and  I  could  not  leave  the 
place,  but  if  it  would  open  a  wider  field  for  you,  and 
if  you  were  elected  to  the  assembly  you  would 
almost  be  at  home." 

"I  have  been  thinking  it  over,  mother,  and  I 
see  nothing  ahead  here.  My  law  practice  hardly 
suffices  to  keep  me  awake  in  office  hours,  and  I 
think  in  a  place  like  this  the  fact  that  everybody 
knows  me,  and  all  about  me,  is  more  of  a  hinderance 
than  a  help.  Father's  old  friends  look  on  me  still 
as  a  boy,  and  when  they  have  any  business  of  im- 
portance they  give  it  to  Judge  Van  Vecht  or  old 
Senator  Boyer." 

That  evening  Van  Buren  received  a  visit  from  his 
cousin,  Amy  Richards.  They  had  grown  up  to- 
gether in  Schenectady  and  a  warm  friendship  existed 
between  them.  Amy  shared  Van  Buren' s  political 
ambitions  and  they  often  discussed  the  possibilities 
of  his  political  career.  He  found  himself  hoping 
now  that  her  views  would  coincide  with  his. 

She,  too,  had  read  his  speech  in  the  papers  and 
congratulated  him  on  his  success.     He  told  her  of 

79 


John    Van    Burcn,    Politician 

Commissioner  Mahoney's  invitation  and  that  he 
thought  of  accepting  it. 

"There  is  nothing  for  him  to  look  forward  to 
here,"  urged  his  mother,  as  Van  Buren  waited  for 
Amy  to  speak.  "I  am  told  that  Schenectady  is 
becoming  more  and  more  Republican,  and  that  all 
young  men  with  a  desire  for  political  advancement 
ought  to  be  on  the  Republican  side.  We  would  be 
very  sorry  to  have  Van  go,"  she  said,  tenderly  plac- 
ing her  hand  on  his  shoulder,  "but  I  suppose  we 
should  see  a  good  deal  of  him,  especially  if  he  is 
elected  to  the  legislature." 

But  Amy's  views  were  not  so  encouraging.  "  Why 
do  you  want  to  go  to  New  York,  and  what  honor  is 
there  in  being  a  Tammany  assemblyman?"  she 
asked.  "It  might  take  longer  to  make  your  mark 
here,  but  think  of  your  father  and  all  the  other 
great  men  Schenectady  has  produced!  Why  not 
keep  at  it  here?" 

"  New  York's  a  bigger  place." 

"  New  York  is  a  good  place  to  visit.  Van,  but  I 
could  never  see  how  any  one  could  live  there.  I  like 
to  go  for  a  few  weeks'  shopping  and  the  theatres,  but 
I'm  always  glad  to  get  back  to  the  restfulness  and 
friendliness  of  life  here." 

"You  can  make  a  national  reputation." 

"In  New  York  reputations  are  lost  as  quickly  as 
they  are  made.  W^hy,  take  that  speech  of  yours. 
Your  friends  will  remember  it  here  years  after  it  is 
forgotten  in  New  York.  Events  don't  live  there  any 
longer  than  the  copy  of  the  newspaper  that  prints 
them." 

"  Don't  talk  as  if  I  were  going  to  a  foreign  country 

80 


John    Van    Btirent   Politician 

never  to  return.  It  isn't  as  serious  as  that,"  Van 
Buren  laughed. 

''  New  York  is  a  foreign  land.  It  is  a  modern 
Minotaur,  and  I  never  knew  a  man  to  return  except 
as  a  broken-down  failure,  and  I  know  you  won't  be 
that." 

''Give  me  your  blessing,  coz,  and  tell  me  to  go 
and  fight  the  monster." 

"You  can  have  the  blessing  without  the  asking, 
but  I  won't  tell  you  to  fight  anybody.  What  one 
has  to  guard  against  in  New  York  is  not  other 
people,  but  one's  self.  It  is  the  lowering  of  one's 
own  standards  to  the  level  of  one's  associates,  and 
I  don't  see  how  you  can  associate  with  that  Tam- 
many crowd  and  do  yourself  any  good." 

"Oh,  there  are  different  ways  of  doing  it.  For 
instance,  there  was  Fernando  Wood;  let  me  tell  you 
a  story  about  him,"  said  Van  Buren,  with  a  twinkle 
of  fun  in  his  eye.  "You  know  he  was  elected  to 
congress  term  after  term  in  my  father's  days." 

"Yes,  I  know." 

"  Well,  his  district  was  on  the  West  Side  of  the  city, 
and  took  in  the  longshoremen  and  the  tenements  of 
Tenth,  Eleventh,  and  Twelfth  ayenues,  w^here  the 
freight  -  handlers  Hve  and  the  saloons  are  thicker 
than  grocery  stores.  He  had  control  of  the  party 
machinery  and  was  easily  renominated  time  after 
time.  The  district  was  so  strongly  Democratic  that 
his  election  was  a  matter  of  course.  He  did  not  live 
in  the  district,  but  in  a  big  house  on  Riverside 
Heights,  and  he  became  so  indifferent  to  district 
affairs  that  he  never  appeared  there  until  a  few 
weeks  before  the  election  to  accept  the  nomination 

8i 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

at  the  congress  convention.  This  had  gone  on  for 
years,  until  a  considerable  feeling  arose  that  the 
district  should  be  represented  by  one  of  its  own 
residents.  One  campaign  a  saloon-keeper  with  a 
large  local  acquaintance  nominated  himself  and 
secured  the  Republican,  Labor,  and  Anti-Tammany 
endorsements.  He  also  had  assurances  from  many 
of  the  minor  Tammany  workers,  who  were  incensed 
at  Mr.  Wood's  indifference  to  them.  Ten  days  be- 
fore the  election  the  saloon-keeper  had  the  whole 
district  with  him.  Mr.  Wood  had  been  perfunctorily 
nommated  as  usual,  and  as  usual  had  paid  no  at- 
tention to  his  personal  canvass.  Finally  alarm- 
ing reports  came  to  him.  He  was  assured  that 
his  competitor  was  going  night  and  day  in  every 
saloon  and  comer  of  the  district,  shaking  hands  and 
treating,  and  that  unless  something  was  done,  the 
combined  opposition  would  win. 

"Late  on  the  Saturday  afternoon  before  the 
election,  a  victoria  with  two  men  in  livery  on  the 
box,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  high-stepping,  well-groomed 
horses,  the  silver  chains  on  the  harness  clanking  with 
impatience,  stopped  on  Tenth  Avenue  as  the  freight- 
handlers  from  the  New  York  Central  yards  were 
returning  to  their  homes  in  the  tenements  of 
Hell's  Kitchen,  as  the  neighborhood  was  called. 
The  sight,  a  novel  one  to  that  neighborhood,  at  once 
drew  a  crowd.  The  small  boys  hooted  and  began 
a  bombardment  of  stale  vegetables.  The  victoria 
stopped.  Congressman  Wood  stood  up  and  waved 
his  gloved  hand  to  still  the  crowd.  There  was  at 
once  a  silence  of  curiosity. 

"'My  constituents,'  said  he,  *I  am  the  member 

82 


John    Van    Btiren,    Politician 

of  congress  from  this  district  and  you  are  my  con- 
stituents. I  come  to  you  that  you  may  see  what 
manner  of  man  I  am  and  how  you  are  honored  by  the 
opportunity  of  voting  for  my  re-election.  I  have 
heard  that  one  of  yourselves  is  going  around  among 
you  in  his  working  clothes  and  shirt-sleeves  appeal- 
ing for  your  suffrages.  I  make  no  such  appeal. 
If  you  do  not  regard  it  as  a  privilege  to  be  allowed 
to  cast  your  votes  for  me,  don't  do  it.  I  have  heard 
that  criticism  is  made  of  my  manner  of  living  and 
entertaining.  Let  me  tell  you  that  my  dinners  are 
the  most  expensive  given  by  any  member  of  congress 
and  my  entertainments  are  recognized  as  the  best 
in  Washington  or  New  York.  I  paid  five  thousand 
dollars  for  this  pair  of  horses.  The  harness  is  solid 
silver.  This  cane  which  I  hold  has  a  solid  gold  head. 
This  apparel  in  which  I  am  clad  is  the  best  and 
most  costly  money  can  buy.  When  I  go  to  see  you, 
my  constituents,  for  that  is  what  you  are  and  you 
cannot  help  yourselves  before  the  4th  of  March  next, 
I  come  with  my  best — my  best  apparel,  my  best 
horses,  my  best  appearance.  You  should  be  proud 
of  me  and  proud  of  yourselves  that  I  represent  you. 
If  you  are  not,  you  are  not  worthy  to  have  the  kind 
of  representative  I  am.  I  have  made  my  annual 
call  on  you  with  the  same  state  I  call  on  the  President 
of  the  United  States.     Drive  on,  James.' 

"Amid  cheers  of  'Rah  for  Fernandy  Wud,  the 
iligant  gentleman,'  the  coachman  drove  on,  and  Mr. 
Wood  was  re-elected  by  the  usual  overwhelming 
majority. 

'*  Now  I  don't  mean  that  I  am  another  Fernandy 
Wud,  but  there  are  other  ways  of  succeeding  in 

S3 


John    Van    Btircnt    Politician 

politics  besides  living  in  bar-rooms  and  putting 
one's  self  on  a  level  with  the  lowest  of  one's  con- 
stituency. It  is  the  same  rule  of  popular  favor  that 
sends  the  French  plays  with  their  suggestiveness  and 
improprieties  to  the  fashionable  theatres  while  the 
Bowery  tolerates  no  play  where  the  villain  is  not 
thwarted  and  virtue  triumphant." 

"Are  you  practising  on  us?"  asked  Amy,  smiling 
at  him.  "Your  ]\Ir.  Wood's  tactics  might  succeed 
better  if  women  voted." 

"Women  do  not  want  to  vote,"  said  Mrs.  Van 
Buren;  "love  and  home  are  the  two  great  motives 
in  a  woman's  life  and  there  is  no  room  for  political 
distractions." 

"  Isn't  love  a  powerful  motive  in  a  man's  life,  too, 
mother?"  asked  Van  Buren. 

"Yes,  but  not  in  the  same  way,  my  boy." 

"  Love  does  not  mean  the  same  thing  to  a  man  as 
to  a  woman,"  said  Amy.  "It  is  everything  to  a 
woman.  She  wants  to  be  positively  convinced  of 
its  reality,  while  from  what  I've  seen  of  married 
men  they  take  that  for  granted." 

"You  are  confusing  love  and  matrimony,"  said 
Van  Buren,  smiling  at  her  heat. 

"It  is  a  man's  way  to  joke  about  such  a  serious 
subject.  You  don't  jest  about  politics,  and  love 
is  a  thousand  times  more  sacred." 

"  I  think  young  men  and  women  are  more  alike 
in  their  views  of  love  than  of  matrimony,"  said  Mrs. 
Van  Buren.  "A  man  marries  for  a  home  and 
family.  A  woman  marries  for  love.  She  wants  him 
daily  and  hourly  to  show  his  love  for  her  until 
death." 

84 


John    Van    Btircn^    Politician 

"You  look  so  young,  mother,  when  you  blush," 
Van  Buren  interrupted.  "  I  do  not  think  you  can 
well  compare  politics  and  love,"  he  continued  a 
little  later.  "  Politics  is  the  greatest  game  in  the 
world  and  it  is  played  for  the  greatest  stakes,  the  hap- 
piness and  welfare  of  mankind .  Love  is  an  individual 
thing,  it  excludes  others.  The  most  openly  selfish 
and  self-centred  people  in  the  world  are  a  newly 
engaged  couple.  Politics  is  the  opposite.  The 
selfishness  must  be  hidden  and  the  individual  con- 
cealed in  the  general  crowd.  However,  I'll  know 
more  about  it  in  a  few  months." 

"  Well,  if  you  will  go,  I  wish  you  all  success.  Van," 
said  Amy.  ''You  must  come  back  and  report 
progress  as  often  as  you  can." 

''  I  certainly  shall.  I  don't  mean  to  give  up  my 
old  home  and  my  old  friends." 


X 


I^AN  BUREN'S  time  was  taken  up  for 
%  a  few  days  in  putting  his  affairs  in 
l^  shape  for  his  removal  to  New  York. 
He  did  not  give  up  his  office  in 
^fH  Schenectady,  but  arranged  for  its  oc- 
cupation with  a  friend,  who,  Hke  himself,  had  am- 
ple time  to  look  after  additional  business  and  at- 
tend to  the  few  clients.  The  cases  that  were  to 
be  tried  at  the  fall  term  of  court  Van  Buren  in- 
tended to  look  after  himself.  His  father's  law  li- 
brary, which  he  had  kept  up  to  date,  was  over- 
hauled, and  from  the  hundreds  of  books  a  selec- 
tion was  made  and  boxed,  ready  to  be  shipped  to 
his  new  offices  in  New  York  as  soon  as  he  had  se- 
cured them. 

The  morning  after  his  arrival  in  New  York  Van 
Buren  went  over  to  police  headquarters  on  Mul- 
berry Street  to  call  on  Commissioner  Mahoney. 
He  found  his  way  to  the  private  office  through  an 
anteroom  filled  with  policemen  and  politicians. 

*'  I  am  glad  to  see  you,"  said  the  commissioner. 
*'  I  engaged  a  room  for  you  the  day  after  our  talk, 
so  you  would  be  sure  to  have  the  four  months' 
residence  the  law  requires.  No  use  of  taking  a 
chance  on  a  little  thing  like  that.  I  am  glad  you 
decided  to  come  with  us." 

86 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

"Yes,  I'm  here,  sink  or  swim,  survive  or  perish. 
Let  me  know  what  I'm  to  do." 

''  Look  around  to-day  and  take  dinner  with  me 
at  the  Manhattan  Club  this  evening.  After  dinner 
we'll  go  up  to  the  Juniata  Club,  where  the  general 
committee  of  my  district  meets  to-night.  I  don't 
advise  you  to  go  on  the  general  committee.  You'll 
get  our  support,  of  course,  and  the  less  you  are 
identified  with  us  the  easier  it  will  be  for  you  with 
the  outside  voters.  It  is  a  peculiar  district,  about  a 
third  of  the  voters  are  Tammany  and  about  as  many 
are  machine  Republicans.  The  rest  would  like  to 
beat  us  both.  Their  idea  is  that  every  man  who 
knows  the  number  of  the  election  district  in  which  he 
lives  is  a  practical  politician,  and  should  be  dis- 
franchised for  the  first  offence  and  sent  to  Sing  Sing 
for  the  second.  These  Mugwump  angels  always 
vote  against  Tammany  and  that  makes  the  district 
Republican.  This  fall  they'll  vote  for  the  Demo- 
cratic President,  and,  as  the  present  assemblyman 
is  a  machine  Republican,  they'll  vote  for  you  if  it's 
handled  right.  Maybe  you  would  like  to  see  police 
headquarters  before  you  go." 

Van  Buren  said  that  he  would,  and  the  com- 
missioner told  one  of  the  clerks  to  take  him  around . 
The  clerk  took  him  first  to  the  Rogues'  Gallery. 

"This  is  what  most  visitors  are  interested  in,"  he 
explained.  Van  Buren  said  he  had  often  heard  of 
it,  and  looked  over  the  cabinets  filled  with  labelled 
photographs.  The  collection  had  grown  too  large 
to  be  wholly  displayed  in  cabinet  form,  and  the 
out-of-date  portraits  were  filed  away  in  boxes  around 
the  room. 

'  87 


John    Van    Bttrcn,    Politician 

*'  It  is  wonderful  the  way  a  man's  memory  for 
faces  can  be  cultivated,"  said  the  clerk.  **  There  are 
men  in  the  detective  bureau  who  can  give  the  names 
of  all  the  living  originals  in  this  collection  and  their 
prison  records.  I  think  some  of  our  men  could 
recite  the  name  of  every  criminal  from  New  York 
in  Sing  Sing  and  the  date  that  he  will  get  out.  We 
always  keep  track  of  them  when  they  return.  Most 
of  them  aren't  out  long." 

**  Maybe  your  keeping  track  of  them  so  helps  to 
send  them  back,"  Van  Buren  commented.  "What 
can  an  ex-convict  do  to  earn  an  honest  living  if  a 
detective  drops  around  to  look  him  up  every  few 
weeks  ?  There  are  not  many  employers  or  businesses 
that  would  keep  a  man  who  is  under  such  constant 
surveillance." 

"That's  true  enough.  I  know  of  only  one 
merchant  who  will  employ  an  ex-convict.  He's 
an  old  fellow  from  the  South  who  has  a  unique 
dry-goods  store  on  Broadway,  and  prefers  to  have 
ex-convicts,  occasional  drunkards,  and  the  like. 
I  don't  see  how  he  works  it,  but  they  never  steal 
from  him.  He  pays  them  their  wages  every  night 
and  has  part  of  the  store  fitted  up  for  them  to  sleep 
in  if  they  wish.  If  a  man  feels  like  going  on  a 
drunk  he  is  expected  to  put  in  an  application  for  a 
vacation  for  that  purpose.  Still,  as  you  say,  an  old 
lag  hasn't  much  chance.  Nobody  wants  him  except 
the  central  office,  and  back  he  goes  to  do  another 
bit  before  he's  got  the  prison  gray  off  his  face." 

Van  Buren  went  through  the  museum  of  horrors 
where  the  souvenirs  of  the  celebrated  crimes  of  the 
last  fifty  years  are  kept.     He  inquired  its  purpose. 

88 


John    Van    Btircnt    Politician 

"These  bits  of  hangman's  rope  and  revolvers, 
jimmies,  blood-stained  clothing,  and  all  the  rest 
come  in  handy.  They  are  rather  impressive  strung 
up  there,  aren't  they  ?  The  mspector  uses  them  for 
all  they're  worth.  Many  a  man  has  told  more  than 
he  intended  to  in  this  room.  Something  in  the 
atmosphere  leads  a  man  to  squeal.  Then  there  are 
other  ways  of  getting  him  to  talk  if  a  little  moral 
suasion  in  this  room  doesn't  start  his  tongue." 

That  afternoon  Van  Buren  called  on  Judge 
Murphy.  The  succession  of  interruptions  from 
callers  was  so  continuous  that  it  seemed  to  him  as 
if  the  judge's  house  must  be  dedicated  to  the  use  of 
the  general  public.  He  watched  and  studied  the 
visitors,  and  heard  what  many  of  them  had  to  say. 
It  was,  as  the  judge  had  said,  ''scores  of  people 
coming  to  ask  scores  of  favors  and  getting  scores 
of  promises."  In  point  of  fact,  the  front  door-bell 
kept  jingling  all  day  and  most  of  the  night  for  the 
admission  of  a  miscellaneous  crowd  of  callers  who 
did  not  stand  on  ceremony.  With  effrontery  they 
took  possession  of  the  parlor,  or  dining-room,  or  any 
place  where  they  could  find  a  lounge  or  chair  to  sit 
on  and  await  the  judge's  arrival.  Some  more 
privileged  than  others  had  the  entree  through  the 
basement  without  ringing  the  bell,  and  were  allowed 
to  roam  all  over  the  house  and  make  themselves  at 
home,  each  believing  himself,  on  account  of  im- 
portant services  claimed  to  be  rendered  to  the  judge, 
entitled  to  some  office  or  favor. 

The  judge  was  playing  politics  all  the  time. 
Above  all,  he  wished  to  be  considered  democratic, 
and  for  this  reason  was  accessible  to  everybody 

89 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

without  discrimination.  His  door  was  as  wide  open 
to  a  street  -  sweeper  and  a  coal  -  heaver  as  to  an 
alderman  or  senator.  In  his  absence  his  representa- 
tive was  "  Mary  Ann,"  as  everybody  called  her.  She 
was  a  poor  relative  of  his  first  wife  and  an  ines- 
timable treasure  to  him. 

Mary  Ann  was  short  and  stoutly  built,  with  a 
pleasant  face  and  smile  that  often  developed  mto  a 
boisterous  guffaw.  She  dressed  tidily,  moved  about 
quickly,  talked  loudly,  her  "sweet  Irish  brogue" 
at  times  drowning  the  din  of  all  the  others'  talk. 
She  had  three  accomplishments :  she  could  dance  an 
Irish  jig,  sing  an  Irish  song,  and  drink  Irish  whiskey. 
Moreover,  she  had  the  reputation  of  being  as  good  a 
politician  as  there  was  in  the  city  —  and  that  is 
saying  a  good  deal.  There  was  not  a  prominent 
man  in  the  party  she  did  not  know.  As  to  the 
district  politicians,  she  knew  them  like  a  book. 
Her  acquaintance  with  the  heelers  and  office-seekers 
in  the  district  was  unlimited  and  unerring.  She 
knew  their  political  record  and  whether  they  were 
entitled  or  not  to  share  in  the  loaves  and  fishes  of 
political  plunder. 

Van  Buren  watched  the  manoeuvres  of  Mary  Ann 
with  great  interest,  and,  in  fact,  she  had  no  hesitation 
in  making  known  to  him  her  programme.  He  soon 
saw  she  was  indispensable  to  the  judge,  because  she 
knew  precisely  whom  he  wished  to  meet  or  avoid, 
and  she  carefully  managed  them  accordingly.  To 
the  laboring  man  for  whom  the  leader  either  would 
not  or  could  not  obtain  an  appointment  on  the 
police  force,  or  in  the  fire  or  park  departments,  she 
would  whisper  in  her  soft,  rich  brogue  such  plausible 

90 


John    Van    Btirent    Politician 

reasons  for  his  non-appointment  at  present,  and 
paint  to  him  such  a  glowing  picture  of  the  probabiHty 
of  his  appointment  at  some  future  time  that  he 
would  depart  feeling  as  thankful  as  if  he  had  really 
been  appointed,  and  indulge  in  the  delusive  hope  of 
soon  drawing  monthly  stipends  from  the  exhaust- 
less  exchequers  of  the  great  Manhattan  municipality. 
The  influential  alderman,  whom  the  judge  —  for 
reasons  of  his  own — wished  particularly  to  see,  was 
treated  with  greater  consideration.  With  him  she 
hobnobbed,  and,  after  cajoling  him  about  his  political 
importance,  inquired  solicitously  about  the  health 
of  his  dear  family  and  his  relatives  in  the  old  country, 
wheedling  him  into  patiently  waiting  until  the  judge 
appeared. 

At  a  glance  she  could  distinguish  an  impostor  from 
one  of  the  regular  workers  in  the  ranks.  All  such  re- 
ceived scant  courtesy ;  the  dulcet  voice  changed  into 
a  harsh  treble ;  she  would  at  times,  with  masculine 
strength,  grasp  the  sham  politician  by  the  coat  col- 
lar and  hurl  him  ignominiously  into  the  street.  The 
same  fate  awaited  those  who  came  to  the  house 
intoxicated  seeking  jobs  on  some  city  work.  This 
occurred  not  infrequently.  When  a  politician  of 
influence  came  into  the  house  too  befuddled  to  talk, 
Mary  Ann  would  act  as  a  diplomat  instead  of  a 
self -constituted  policeman.  Instead  of  ejecting  the 
statesman,  she  would  coax  him  until  he  became 
sensible  and  was  willing  to  wait  quietly  until  the 
judge  put  in  an  appearance.  If,  in  spite  of  all 
Mary  Ann's  good  advice,  he  insisted  on  singing, 
she  would  lure  him  into  the  library  on  the  next 
floor  under  the  pretext   that   she   had   a   private 

91 


John    Van    Burcnt    Politician 

message  from  the  judge  to  deliver  to  him.  The 
library  was  a  misnomer ;  it  was  simply  a  cosey  room 
containing  a  comfortable  lounge,  and  set  apart  by 
the  judge  as  his  private  room  where  he  and  his 
friends  could  remain  in  seclusion.  When  the  door 
of  this  sanctuary  once  closed  upon  an  exuberant 
public  official,  Mary  Ann  would  plead  with  alm.ost 
maternal  solicitude,  and  in  most  persuasive  accents 
say,  "  Now,  alderman,  dear,  like  a  good  man  lie  down 
and  take  a  little  nap  until  the  judge's  return." 
Whether  it  was  the  temptation  of  the  cosey  room  or 
the  soft  words  of  Mary  Ann,  invariably  the  hilarious 
politician  would  obediently  lie  down  and  go  to  sleep. 

Mary  Ann  was  invaluable  to  the  judge  in  other 
capacities  than  those  of  chamberlain  or  police  officer. 
During  feasts  held  in  celebration  of  political  victories, 
or  of  gatherings  consolatory  for  political  defeats, 
after  the  dishes  w^ere  removed  and  the  assembled 
statesmen  had  reached  a  happy  and  exhilarated 
condition  either  in  celebrating  a  victory  or  in  drown- 
ing their  sorrow  for  a  defeat,  Mary  Ann  was  always 
called  upon  to  dance  a  jig.  The  tables  were  re- 
moved and  chairs  hustled  around  the  four  sides  of 
the  room.  Like  a  bashful  maiden  of  sixteen,  Mary 
Ann  gracefully  tripped  to  the  middle  of  the  floor, 
and,  daintily  raising  her  frock,  to  the  whistling  of  a 
tune  and  a  general  clapping  of  hands  would  start 
an  Irish  jig.  Soon  she  warmed  up  to  her  work;  her 
feet  flew  faster,  her  body  swayed  swifter,  and  while 
wildly  jigging  around  the  room  at  regular  intervals 
she  would  give  a  loud  shout  like  a  war-whoop. 

A  short  time  before  nominations  were  to  be  made, 
aspirants  for  office  deemed  it  a  good  stroke  of  policy 

92 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

to  let  Mary  Ann  win  large  pots  of  money  at  poker. 
It  was,  indeed,  whispered  around  the  ward  that  no 
man  could  get  a  nomination  or  receive  an  appoint- 
ment until  Mary  Ann  had  been  ''  seen."  Every  one 
paid  tribute  to  her  for  favors  received  from  the 
judge.  A  poor  street-sweeper  or  driver  on  the 
street  cars  often  pressed  a  ten -dollar  bill  into  her 
hand  out  of  gratitude  for  his  humble  appointment. 
Others,  obtaining  better  places,  made  the  hand- 
pressure  correspondingly  pleasant. 

The  judge  received  a  salary  of  ten  thousand  dol- 
lars per  annum,  yet  his  household,  personal,  and 
political  expenses  exceeded  this  amount,  for  he  drove 
horses  and  gambled  and  bet  on  the  races.  Part 
of  the  excess  over  his  salary  was  derived  from  an 
interest  he  had  in  a  contract  from  the  city  to  build 
a  sewer.  No  one  ever  dared  to  charge  him  with 
receiving  any  part  of  Mary  Ann's  perquisites. 

Mary  Ann  was  not  even  susceptible  to  the  blan- 
dishments of  love  in  return  for  her  influence  with 
the  judge.  She  had  tried  and  failed.  There  was 
Alderman  Maguire,  a  confirmed  bachelor,  the  Beau 
Brummel  of  the  district,  always  dressed  in  a  Prince 
Albert  coat,  high  silk  hat,  and  red  necktie.  He  led 
the  dances  at  all  the  political  balls  and  picnics. 
The  girls  raved  about  him ;  the  young  men  imitated 
him.  It  had  been  decided  by  the  judge  not  to  re- 
nominate him  for  alderman,  because  he  voted 
against  the  building  of  a  sewer  in  the  annexed 
district  in  which  the  judge  was  interested,  well  know- 
ing that  the  contract  was  to  be  awarded  to  a  friend. 
The  judge  believed  the  alderman  was  under  many 
obligations  in  being  selected  for  the  position,  and 

93 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

therefore  was  not  entitled  to  a  consideration  for  his 
vote  as  were  his.  colleagues  representing  other  wards. 
Maguire  was  bound  to  secure  the  renomination  if 
possible.  He  believed  himself  irresistible  with  the 
fair  sex,  and  on  thinking  the  matter  over  made  up 
his  mind  that  the  best  way  to  secure  a  renomination 
was  to  make  desperate  love  to  Mary  Ann. 

One  rainy  afternoon,  about  a  fortnight  before  the 
convention,  he  called  at  the  house  and  had  the  good- 
fortune  to  find  Mary  Ann  alone  in  the  library.  Like 
a  crafty  statesman,  he  did  not  immediately  begin 
his  love-making,  but,  seating  himself  next  to  her  on 
the  cosey  lounge,  gave  a  long  and  deep-drawn  sigh. 

''What's  the  matter  wid  ye,  alderman?"  asked 
Mary  Ann. 

"Ah,  Mary  Ann,"  he  replied,  "'tis  a  dreary  day. 
I  felt  awfully  lonesome  all  alone  in  me  room,  and  so 
I  just  thought  I  would  come  here  and  have  a  chat 
wid  yer,  as  I  always  derive  so  much  comfort  from 
yer  society." 

"I  am  sure,  alderman,"  simpered  Mary  Ann,  "ye 
are  welcome  to  me  society  if  it  benefits  ye." 

"  How  bright  you  make  everything  appear  about 
you,"  he  said,  looking  around  the  cheerful  room 
with  a  simulated  air  of  regret.  "  If  I  could  only 
have  such  comfort  in  my  place." 

"Well,"  rejoined  Mary  Ann,  sympathetically, 
"why  don't  you  marry  some  good  woman,  and 
she'll  soon  make  your  home  look  comfortable." 

The  alderman  moved  closer  to  ]\Iary  Ann  and 
took  her  unresisting  hand  in  his. 

"Ah,"  he  sighed,  "if  I  had  only  known  you  when 
we  were  younger!" 

94 


John    Van    Btirent    Politician 

An  embarrassing  pause  ensued.  Mary  Ann  did 
something  she  had  not  been  guilty  of  since  she 
entered  politics — she  actually  blushed ;  but  nature's 
scarlet  hue  did  not  long  mantle  her  furrowed  cheeks 
and  brow. 

"Arragh,"  she  simpered,  "it  is  not  long  ago  whin 
the  young  min  called  me  '  Sweet  Mary '  instead  of 
'  Mary  Ann,'  as  now,  and  shure  I  am  not  ould,  nither 
are  you,  alderman,  dear." 

''And  shure,  Mary,"  he  said,  pressing  her  hand 
more  tenderly,  "ould  or  young,  how  could  a  man 
think  of  marrying  when  everybody  is  aginst  him; 
when  his  office,  his  bread-and-butter,  will  be  taken 
away  from  him  by  the  judge.  Now,  Mary,  dear,  if 
you  will  coax  the  judge — and  I  know  you  can  do  it — 
to  renominate  me  for  alderman,  I'll  bless  you  all  my 
life,  and  after  I  am  elected  I'll  come  around  and  we 
can  talk  it  over  again,  Mary,  dear." 

She  pushed  his  hand  away.  With  anger  blazing 
in  her  eyes,  and  with  her  brogue  strongly  accentu- 
ated by  her  excitement,  she  cried : 

"  An'  ye  tink  to  fool  me  wid  swate  words  and  false 
promises,  and  pretind  to  care  for  me,  when  ye  only 
want  me  to  help  to  have  ye  nominated!"  Pointing 
her  uplifted  hand  to  the  door,  she  exclaimed,  in 
righteous  indignation,  "Get  out,  ye  spalpeen,  and 
niver  show  yer  dirty  face  in  this  house  again!" 

This  was  the  last  time  Mary  Ann  ever  permitted 
any  of  the  political  habitues  to  address  her  in  tender 
accents  of  love,  or  even  to  broach  the  subject  to  her. 


XI 


FTER  dinner  Commissioner  Mahoney 
and  Van  Buren  went  to  the  Juniata 
Club,  on  Sixth  Avenue,  on  the  edge  of 
the  Murray  Hill  district.  The  club 
occupied  two  floors  over  a  restaurant. 
One  floor  was  fltted  up  as  a  meeting-room,  with  a 
platform  and  chairs  and  an  oflice  for  the  district 
leader  and  the  secretary.  The  other  floor  had  a 
general  reading-room,  a  billiard-room,  and  several 
card-rooms.  As  it  was  meeting  night  the  main  room 
was  comfortably  filled.  Most  of  the  men  were 
young.  They  were  the  election  district  captains 
and  their  friends.  The  commiissioner  explained  to 
Van  Buren  that  there  were  twenty-seven  election 
districts  in  the  assembly  district,  and  that  every 
election  district  had  a  captain  who  looked  after  its 
affairs  and  its  voters,  and  who  had  a  little  committee 
of  his  own  with  a  general  rendezvous  at  some  saloon 
or  cigar  store.  The  captains  made  up  the  executive 
committee  of  the  district,  and  they  and  their  little 
committees  constituted  the  general  district  com- 
mittee. All  the  district  general  committeemen  were 
members  of  the  general  committee  of  Tammany 
Hall,  which  has,  all  told,  eight  or  ten  thousand 
members ;  the  district  executive  committeemen  were 
the  Tammany  committee  on  organization,  which  has 

96 


John    Van    Barcnt    Politician 

as  many  members  as  there  are  election  districts,  nine 
'*■  hundred  or  a  thousand,  and  each  assembly  dis- 
trict elects  a  member  of  the  Tammany  executive 
committee  which  selects  the  boss." 

*'A  sort  of  human  pyramid,"  said  Van  Buren. 

''That  is  what  a  democracy  is,  an  opportunit}^ 
for  every  man  to  rise  and  a  certainty  that  not 
more  than  one  at  a  time  can  be  on  top." 

The  monthly  meeting  came  to  order.  The  chair- 
man was  a  well-known  lawyer,  an  assistant  in  the 
corporation  counsel's  office,  and  partner  in  a  firm 
to  which  his  political  connections  brought  profitable 
business.  There  was  little  to  be  done.  Commis- 
sioner Mahoney  offered  a  resolution  indorsing  the 
action  of  the  Democratic  National  Convention  and 
ratifying  the  ticket  and  the  platform.  Van  Buren 
made  a  short  speech  which  was  received  with  ap- 
plause. The  commissioner  introduced  him  as  "a 
talented  orator  who  has  located  in  our  district,  and 
whose  honored  name  assures  the  strength  and 
purity  of  his  democracy."  Another  young  lawyer 
made  a  seconding  speech.  Then  the  resolution  was 
unanimously  adopted.  The  roll  was  called  by  the 
secretary  and  the  monthly  dues  collected.  Within 
half  an  hour  the  committee  meeting  had  adjourned. 
Everything  was  done  with  the  prearranged  pre- 
cision and  timeliness  of  the  machinery  of  a  clock, 
and  it  was  evident  that  the  idea  of  proceeding  in 
any  other  way  did  not  occur  to  any  member.  After 
the  meeting  the  members  of  the  committee  went  up- 
stairs to  the  billiard-rooms,  most  of  them  to  sit 
around  the  poker-tables.  There  is  said  to  be  no 
game  in  the  world  possessing  such  possibilities  as 

97 


John    Van    Burcn,    Politician 

poker.  The  playing  was  straight  enough,  though 
now  and  then  exceptions  occurred.  A  short  time*- 
before  a  card-sharp  worked  his  way  into  the  games, 
and  got  in  some  of  his  fine  work  to  the  serious  loss 
of  several  of  the  players.  He  posed  as  a  street- 
sweeper,  and,  what  is  more,  he  was  a  street-sweeper 
and  worked  with  the  gang.  It  turned  out  that  a 
prominent  politician,  knowing  his  skill  in  putting 
up  cards,  got  him  his  position  as  street-sweeper  to 
give  him  the  entree  among  the  players,  and  fur- 
nished the  capital  to  back  him  up.  They  divided 
large  sums  between  them,  until  the  sharp  was  rec- 
ognized, when  he  dropped  his  street  broom  and  dis- 
appeared. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  novel  sight  for  Van  Buren,  the 
intermingling  of  political  affairs  with  cards,  social 
recreation,  and  conviviality.  It  was  evident  that' 
the  Juniata  Club  was  to  these  young  m^en  what  the 
Mohawk  Club,  of  Schnectady,  and  the  Holland  Club, 
of  Albany,  were  to  their  members.  Sometimes 
young  men  of  slender  pockets  but  ambitious  proj- 
ects w^ould  seat  themselves  at  the  poker  -  tables  oc- 
cupied by  the  older  and  bigger  players,  and  in  or- 
der to  become  better  acquainted  with  them,  and  to 
make  a  favorable  impression,  would  play  for  high 
stakes  and  lose  large  sums,  which  they  could  ill 
afford  to  do. 

One  evening,  later  in  the  season,  when  Van 
Buren  was  watching  a  game  in  which  Commissioner 
Mahoney  was  a  player,  a  young  man  named  Harry 
McNulty  came  in  and  joined  in  the  game.  Van 
Buren  knew  him  as  the  assistant  cashier  in  a  large 
department  store.     He  was  a  bright  and  handsome 

98 


John    Van    Barcnt    Politician 

young  fellow,  and  although  he  was  losing  heavily 
he  did  not  seem  to  be  worried  over  the  fluctuations 
of  the  game.  When  he  finally  stopped  playing  and 
rose  from  the  table  to  take  his  departure,  he  bade 
his  fellow  -  players  a  cheery  good-night  as  though 
his  losses  were  a  matter  of  no  consequence. 

"Why  do  you  go  so  early?"  asked  one  of  the 
players,  kindly. 

*'  You  have  taken  my  money  among  3^ou,  and  so 
I  thought  I'd  take  my  leave,"  was  his  smiling  re- 
sponse. 

Van  Buren's  curiosity  was  keenly  excited.  He 
could  not  understand  how  a  yoimg  man  could  lose 
so  much  money  and  show  indifference  to  the  loss. 
He  followed  the  young  man  into  the  street,  and  a 
moment  later  was  by  his  side. 

*'  I  beg  your  pardon  for  mentioning  it,"  said  Van 
Buren,  touching  him  gently  on  the  arm,  "but  you 
have  just  been  losing  heavily  playing  poker  and  I 
thought  I  might  be  of  service  to  you." 

"  In  what  way?" 

"  Possibly  get  your  money  back." 

"  I  don't  think  you  can  do  that,  and  I  wouldn't 
ask  you  to  if  you  could." 

"And  why  not?" 

"  Because  I  am  not  that  kind  of  a  player." 

The  night  was  warm  and  Van  Buren  was  inter- 
ested. He  invited  him  to  take  a  cigar,  and  the 
two  strolled  into  Bryant  Park.  McNulty  said  he 
had  lost  five  thousand  dollars  at  the  poker  game, 
and  that  the  money  belonged  to  his  widowed  mother, 
which  had  been  paid  to  him  that  day  as  the  pro- 
ceeds of  the  sale  of  a  small  place  in  the  country  left 

99 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

her  by  his  father,  who  had  been  dead  only  a  few 
months. 

"What  induced  you  to  risk  losing  the  money?" 
Van  Buren  asked. 

"I  was  told  by  a  friend,"  the  young  man  ex- 
plained, ''that  if  I  lost  five  thousand  dollars  to 
Commissioner  Mahoney  at  poker  he  would  get  me  a 
three  thousand  dollar  a  year  clerkship  in  the  comp- 
troller's office,  which  I  could  retain  as  long  as  I  liked." 

*'Did  your  mother  know  of  this  arrangement?" 

"She  did." 

"  Now  that  you  have  lost  the  money — you  expect 
the  clerkship?" 

"I  was  told  so  most  positively." 

"  I  don't  believe  the  commissioner  is  in  that  sort 
of  business." 

After  some  further  talk  it  was  arranged  to  re- 
turn at  once  and  see  the  commissioner,  as  soon  as 
he  had  finished  his  poker  game,  and  receive  from 
his  own  lips  a  ratification.  The  idea  was  to  give 
the  young  man  the  pleasing  assurance  that  it  was 
all  right  and  relieve  his  mother  of  unnecessary 
anxiety.  They  had  not  long  to  wait.  They  found 
the  commissioner  in  the  private  office. 

"Well,  commissioner,"  said  young  McNulty,  in 
a  pleasant  tone,  "  I  have  let  you  win  five  thousand 
dollars  from  me  to-night,  and  now  I  suppose  you  are 
willing,  before  ]\Ir.  Van  Buren,  to  ratify  your  prom- 
ise to  give  me  a  three  thousand  dollar  clerkship  in 
your  court." 

"I  never  made  such  a  promise — it's  a  d — d  lie, 
and  you  know  it,"  declared  the  commissioner,  with 
irate  emphasis. 

lOO 


John    Van    Bttrcnt    Politician 

''  It's  the  truth,  and  if  you  say  it  is  not,  you  are  a 
d — d  liar,"  retorted  McNulty,  with  fierce  indignation. 

''Don't  you  dare  talk  that  way  to  me,"  said  the 
commissioner,  and  with  the  words  he  made  a  quick 
move  to  strike  McNulty. 

McNulty  dodged  the  blow,  and  like  a  flash  drew 
a  pistol  from  his  hip-pocket.  Van  Buren  was  too 
quick  for  him  and  knocked  his  pistol-hand  upward. 
The  pistol  went  off,  the  bullet  crashing  into  the 
ceiling.  Van  Buren  snatched  the  weapon  from  the 
young  man's  hand.  The  roar  of  the  pistol  pro- 
duced instant  commotion  in  the  poker -room  and 
a  general  questioning  as  to  the  cause  of  the  firing, 
but  no  explanation  was  given.  A  few  moments 
later  McNulty  was  hustled  with  all  possible  rapidit}^ 
by  two  policemen  to  the  nearest  station-house. 

''What  does  all  this  mean?"  the  commissioner 
demanded  of  Van  Buren.  Van  Buren  told  him  the 
story  as  he  got  it  from  McNulty. 

"  I  didn't  win  his  money ;  I'm  a  loser  on  the  game. 
He's  been  buncoed.     Find  out  his  friend's  name." 

Van  Buren  went  to  the  station  -  house,  and 
McNulty  told  him  that  the  friend  was  a  well-known 
bookmaker  whom  he  had  met  at  the  Juniata  Club, 
and  who  sat  in  the  game  where  he  lost  his  money 
and  was  the  heavy  winner.  Van  Buren  at  once 
reported  back  to  Commissioner  Mahoney,  who  sent 
word  to  the  station-house  to  let  young  McNulty  go. 
He  then  directed  one  of  his  lieutenants  to  go  to  the 
bookmaker  and  force  him  to  disgorge,  which  he 
did,  and  Van  Buren  had  the  pleasure  of  taking  the 
money  back  to  McNulty. 


XII 


[HEN  Van  Buren  went  home  in  Sep- 
tember for  a  visit  of  a  few  weeks  he 
had  not  had  one  law  case  or  client. 
Still,  he  had  worked  hard  and  he 
was  far  from  discouraged.  He  had 
spent  the  summer  in  familiarizing  himself  with 
legal  and  political  conditions  in  New  York  and  in 
mapping  out  his  course  of  conduct.  He  had  per- 
sonally canvassed  the  Murray  Hill  district,  which 
was  made  easier  through  the  concealment  by  the 
commissioner  that  he  was  to  be  a  candidate  for 
the  assembly.  **  Nothing  to  be  gained  by  being  a 
summer  candidate,"  advised  the  commissioner 
when  Van  Buren  broached  the  subject  to  him. 
"You'll  be  nominated  on  the  last  day  the  law  al- 
lows." 

Everybody  in  Schenectady  was  glad  to  see  Van 
Buren  back  home.  The  old  lawyers  and  politicians 
welcomed  him  and  asked  all  about  his  New  York 
experiences.  His  mother  wanted  him  all  to  her- 
self, for  it  was  the  first  time  since  his  college  days 
that  he  had  been  away  from  her  for  any  length  of 
time. 

During  his  holiday  Van  Buren  went  over  to 
Albany  one  afternoon  to  the  Holland  Club  to  at- 

I02 


John    Van    Bttrcn,    Politician 

tend  a  dinner  in  honor  of  a  distinguished  Albanian 
who  had  added  a  group  of  bronze  statuary  to  the 
attractions  of  Washington  Park. 

Van  Buren  always  enjoyed  the  delightful  social 
feuds  and  gossipings  which  made  life  in  Albany  so 
interesting.  As  an  outsider,  he  had  become  a  re- 
pository of  many  of  the  scandals  of  the  last  cen- 
tury, for  in  Albany  a  scandal  improves  with  age. 
In  this  Albany  greatly  reminded  him  of  Rich- 
mond. On  one  of  these  visits  to  Richmond  he 
was  a  guest  at  the  dinner  of  the  Virginia  State  Bar 
Association.  He  never  enjoyed  a  dinner  more  in 
his  life,  for  next  him  sat  two  venerable  and  distin- 
guished lawyers,  one  a  descendant  of  Patrick  Henry, 
and  the  other  one  of  the  old  Tyler  connection, 
who  spent  the  evening  discussing  whether  the 
private  life  of  George  Washington  or  Thomas 
Jefferson  was  the  more  scandalous,  and  each  illus- 
trating his  point  with  first-hand  anecdotes  and 
illustrations.  It  was  at  this  dinner  that  a  Charles- 
ton lawyer  made  the  speech  from  which  Van  Buren 
had  often  appropriated  the  anti-woman's-rights  ar- 
gument. 

Speech-making  had  gone  on  for  several  hours.  A 
succession  of  young  Virginia  lawyers  had  had  the 
opportunity,  as  was  the  custom,  of  making  their 
quality  and  talents  known  to  the  bar  of  the  State 
by  responding  to  the  toasts  of  the  judiciary,  the 
State  of  Virginia,  Richmond,  Norfolk,  Petersburg, 
and  the  other  judicial  circuits  of  the  State.  These 
young  orators  vied  with  one  another  in  sounding 
the  praises  of  Virginia:  how  that  venerable  State 
had  estabHshed  the  United  States    and   furnished 

8  103 


John    Van    Barent    Politician 

presidents  until  the  other  States  arirved  at  years 
of  discretion,  how  the  Supreme  Court  was  a  Vir- 
ginia creation,  how  Virginia  discovered  the  Declara- 
ton  of  Independence  and  invented  the  Constitution 
of  the  United  States,  closing  with  perorations  of  the 
ruin  wrought  by  the  civil  war,  and  that  Virginia 
was  now  poor  and  prostrate  but  no  less  proud  and 
honorable.  It  was  all  gravely  serious,  almost  to 
sadness. 

One  of  the  speakers  ventured  a  funny  story  by 
telling  of  the  man  who  stopped  his  horse  in  the 
rain  at  a  railroad  crossing  to  let  a  Richmond  and 
Danville  train  go  by.  A  flash  of  lightning  started 
the  horse  beyond  the  driver's  control  as  the  train 
came  along.  The  synchronism  of  the  train  and 
the  thunder  and  lightning  resulted  in  a  lawsuit 
against  the  railroad  company,  which  the  trial  judge 
dismissed  on  the  ground  that  the  Richmond  and 
Danville  was  not  liable  for  the  acts  of  Providence. 
This  story  was  ancient  enough  to  entitle  it  to  the  re- 
spect due  to  age,  but  the  leader  of  the  Spottsylvania 
bar  thought  the  humor  of  the  telling  out  of  place. 
He  rose  and  protested.  "  The  judge  of  the  Spott- 
sylvania circuit  is  the  peer  of  any  judge  in  the 
State,  sir,  and  his  decision  is  good  law,  sir.  It  is 
not  humor,  but  law." 

This  had  been  the  only  glimpse  of  humor  in  the 
clouds  of  oratory  until  the  Charleston  lawyer  arose 
after  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  to  respond  to  the 
toast  of  "Woman."  After  saying  that  the  women 
of  South  Carolina  would  not  exchange  their  priv- 
ileges for  rights,  he  went  on  with  soft  accents:  *'  But 
I  am  not  going  to  speak  about  women,   sir.     In 

104 


John    Van    Btircn,   Politician 

South  Carolina,  sir,  we  say  little  about  our  ladies — 
the  less  the  better.  I  have  been  sitting  here  listen- 
ing with  admiration  and  sympathy  to  the  eloquent 
descriptions  of  the  past  glories  of  Virginia,  of  what 
it  was  a  hundred  years  ago,  how  it  invented  our 
institutions  and  furnished  our  presidents  and  jus- 
tices, declarations  and  constitutions  until  Ohio 
grew  up.  And  I  sorrow  over  Virginia's  reverses, 
and  I  feel  for  the  mourners  over  her  downfall  and 
devastation.  But  for  antiquity,  sir,  you  must  come 
to  South  Carolina.  We  can  sympathize  with  your 
recent  loss,  but  with  us  our  old  families,  sir,  have 
not  yet  begun  to  mourn  the  destruction  of  the 
civil  war.  Our  old  families,  sir,  are  still  suffering 
from  the  complete  devastation  of  the  great  flood, 
sir." 

With  a  like  love  for  antiquity  on  the  part  of  old 
Albanians,  Van  Buren  had  become  a  repository  of 
traditional  confidences.  The  grown  -  up  popula- 
tion of  Albany  is  in  the  habit  of  marrying  twice, 
not  by  the  use  of  modem  divorce  practices,  but 
in  the  old-fashioned  way.  Half  of  the  married 
population  conveniently  die,  and  the  remaining 
quarters  remarry  to  the  end  that  the  involved 
family  connections  shall  be  still  further  complicated. 
Every  remarriage  brought  about  a  delightful  feud 
between  the  children  and  relatives  of  the  dear  de- 
parted and  those  of  his  or  her  successor,  which 
rarely  added  to  the  revenue  of  the  lawyers,  for  by 
common  consent  such  matters  merely  gave  an  ad- 
ditional basis  for  scandal  and  gossip.  Thus  one  of 
the  collateral  connections  of  a  defunct  first  hus- 
band would  withdraw  Van  Buren  into  a  corner  of 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

some  little  room  and  produce  an  old  receipted  bill, 
yellow  and  worn. 

"  Look  at  this  old  paper  which  I  found  on 
going  over  some  effects  of  my  grandfather,  Van 
Kops."  Van  Buren  looked  and  saw  a  cobbler's 
bill  receipted  by  Cornelius  Berlin.  ''  That  is 
the  grandfather  of  the  present  Colonel  Berlin, 
whose  second  marriage  is  doubtless  known  to 
you.  His  grandfather  mended  my  grandfather's 
shoes." 

For  the  satisfactory  delivery  of  such  conferences, 
a  comparative  outsider  was  needed,  and  Van 
Buren' s  sense  of  humor  was  developed  without  ex- 
pense to  his  popularity. 

The  dinner  at  the  Holland  Club  that  night  was 
excellent.  The  descendants  of  the  old  Dutch  kept 
up  the  traditions  of  good  cooking  and  straight 
drinking  wliich  they  inherited.  In  the  centre  of 
the  table  was  a  miniature  of  the  statuary  which 
the  distinguished  Albanian  aforesaid  had  donated 
to  Washington  Park — a  bronze  group  depicting  the 
finding  of  Moses  in  the  bulrushes.  The  bulrushes 
were  so  arranged  as  to  throw  sprays  of  water  in  the 
air,  meeting  over  little  Moses,  and  the  sculptor  had 
taken  Colonel  G.  Humphrey  Ring,  the  rich  mer- 
chant who  paid  for  the  group,  as  a  model  for  the 
Egyptian  high  -  priest  who  was  supposed  to  be  lit- 
tle Moses'  discoverer.  The  speeches  all  included 
a  eulogy  of  G.  Humphrey  Ring,  and  the  dinner 
went  along  most  peaceably  until  a  young  lawyer 
attempted  poetry,  and  closed  his  response  to  the 
toast  of  ''The  Bar"  with  the  suggestion  that  the 
honored  guest  and  host  should  rise  and  sing  a  little 

io6 


John    Van    Burcn,    Politician 

ditty,  which  he  had  composed,  and  which  ended 
with  the  refrain : 

"  I  am  G.  Humphrey  Ring,  I  am, 
For  statuary  I  don't  give  a  damn; 
But  isn't  it  a  beautiful  thing 
To  know  that  I  am  G.  Humphrey  Ring?'* 

This  Httle  episode  might  have  been  passed  over 
if  another  youngster,  in  responding  to  the  toast  to 
"The  Press,"  had  not  become  mellow  over  the 
auspicious  occasion  and  closed  his  speech  with  this 
peroration : 

"  Our  honored  host  is  older  than  I  am,  but  I 
have  always  looked  up  to  him.  I  have  heard  my 
grandfather  tell  my  father  about  his  father.  Back 
in  the  fifties  it  was,  and,  as  I  said,  I  heard  my 
grandfather  tell  my  father  that  every  evening  when 
my  grandfather  walked  up  State  Street  from  his 
office  he  passed  the  Ring  store  and  looked  in  the 
window.  It  was  not  such  a  big  store  then.  I've 
often  heard  my  grandfather  tell  my  father  that  the 
store  was  the  front  room,  and  the  dining-room  and 
the  kitchen  were  the  back  room,  and  the  family 
lived  up-stairs.  But  that  was  a  long  time  ago,  long 
before  my  time.  But,  as  I  said,  I  have  often  heard 
my  grandfather  tell  my  father  that  every  night  at 
the  close  of  business  Mr.  Ring  would  put  all  his 
account-books  and  money  in  an  old-fashioned,  brass- 
bound  chest  and  sit  on  the  chest  and  smoke  his 
pipe.  And  my  grandfather  said  to  my  father, 
*  Every  evening  when  I  see  Mr.  Ring  sitting  on  that 
chest  I  say  to  myself,  there  is  an  honest  man;  he 
will    succeed.'     That    prediction    has    come    true. 

107 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

Every  prediction  my  grandfather  ever  made  to  my 
father,  or  any  one  else,  came  true.  When  I  look  at 
Colonel  G.  Humphrey  Ring  sitting  at  the  head  of 
this  table  it  makes  me  think  of  my  grandfather, 
and  of  what  my  grandfather  said  to  my  father 
years  ago." 

Here  the  speaker's  emotions  changed  to  moisture, 
and,  sitting  down,  he  reclined  his  head  on  the  table 
and  sobbed  himself  to  sleep.  Some  of  the  diners 
were  inclined  to  jest  at  this  turn  in  the  speech- 
making,  but  the  descendants  of  the  old  Albanians 
understood  that  real  feehng  could  not  be  better 
expressed. 

'  Van  Buren  did  not  stay  until  the  end  of  the  din- 
ner. One  effect  of  his  New  York  life  had  been  to 
make  him  look  with  disfavor  on  the  kind  of  drink- 
ing that  manifests  itself  in  speech  and  action.  He 
had  noticed  that  all  the  political  leaders  were  ab- 
stemious, several  of  them  never  drinking  anything 
stronger  than  mineral  w^ater  in  public.  Indeed,  he 
had  seen  much  less  intoxication  in  New  York  City, 
in  the  clubs  or  on  the  street,  than  in  either  Schenec- 
tady or  Albany.  Neither  was  the  same  considera- 
tion shown  a  man  who  overdrank.  At  the  Holland 
Club,  for  instance,  one  of  the  founders  had  devel- 
oped the  afternoon  -  cocktail  habit  to  the  extent 
that  he  frequently  went  to  his  table  in  the  dining- 
room  with  his  hat  and  overcoat  on  and  sat  there 
talking  to  himself  oblivious  of  his  dinner.  No  one 
thought  of  changing  such  an  established  habit,  and 
when  the  founder  contracted  a  further  habit  of 
slipping  on  the  waxed  stairway,  and  falling  from 
the  dining-room  to  the  floor  below,  the  house  com- 

io8 


John   Van   Baren,    Politician 

mittee  had  the  stairway  carpeted,  and  one  of  the 
waiters  was  detailed  to  see  that  the  esteemed 
founder  was  safely  conducted  down-stairs.  It  was 
very  thoughtful  of  the  house  committee,  and  doubt- 
less the  founder  was  entitled  to  consideration  as 
his  falls  were  a  cause  of  apprehension  to  several 
nervous  members. 


XIII 

I  HE  day  after  the  statuary  dinner  Van 
Buren  called  on  Senator  Marlow  to 
have  a  talk  with  him.  He  regarded 
the  senator  as  his  political  mentor, 
and,  together  with  the  other  leaders 
of  the  party  in  Schenectady,  was  accustomed  to 
ask  the  senator's  advice  on  all  political  matters. 
These  consultations  took  place  at  the  law -office, 
rarely  at  the  senator's  house.  Miss  Marlow  had 
outgrown  the  little  office  as  a  playground,  but 
she  would  often  drive  down  the  hill  late  in  the 
afternoon  to  bring  her  father  home  to  dinner. 
Van  Buren  reached  the  senator's  office  as  Miss 
Marlow  was  stepping  out  of  her  victoria.  He  ac- 
companied her  up  the  steps  to  the  office. 

"I  fear  your  call  confficts  with  mine,"  he  said. 
"How  uncomplimentary!     You   should   be   con- 
gratulating yourself  on  your  good -fortune." 

"I  do;  but  I  came  for  advice,  and  it  looks  as  if 
office  hours  were  now  over." 

"It  is  office  hours  all  the  time  with  father  if  it  is 
politics.  If  you  come  to  see  him  about  a  law  case  it 
is  too  late.  He  calls  law  work  and  politics  pleasure, 
though  I  think  he  works  harder  at  politics  than  law." 
"Isn't  that  the  way  with  most  of  us?  It's  an 
American  fault  to  make  work  of  our  pleasures." 

no 


John    Van   Baren^    Politician 

"On  the  other  hand,  why  not  make  our  work  a 
pleasure?" 

"Then  one's  whole  life  would  be  work." 

"Isn't  it — or,  rather,  should  it  not  be?" 

Miss  Marlow  took  Van  Buren  in  through  the 
private  door  instead  of  through  the  general  office. 
They  found  Senator  Marlow  finishing  a  legal  brief. 
"  Here's  the  walking  delegate  of  the  Marlow  Union," 
he  greeted  her. 

"Five  o'clock.     No  overtime,  father." 

"Glad  to  see  you.  Van  Buren,"  said  the  senator, 
shaking  hands.  "I  hear  you  have  moved  to  New 
York.  We  shall  miss  you  in  Schenectady.  What 
will  we  do,  with  the  old  leaders  dying  off  and  you 
youngsters  moving  away?" 

"That's  what  I  came  to  see  you  about,  senator. 
I  am  going  to  New  York  more  for  politics  than  for 
business  reasons.  I  think  there  is  more  of  an  open- 
ing and  more  scope." 

"A  man's  scope  isn't  so  much  a  matter  of  his 
environment  as  of  himself." 

"There,  father,  don't  lecture  Mr.  Van  Buren," 
said  Miss  Marlow.  "He  is  tired  of  our  poor  little 
excitements.  What  have  Albany  and  Schenectady 
to  offer?  I  don't  blame  him.  Maybe  some  day 
you'll  tire  of  politics  and  we'll  all  go  to  New  York. 
Mr.  Van  Buren  will  be  the  mayor,  and  he'll  arrange 
a  reception  to  us  in  the  city  hall,  and  I'll  spend 
my  days  shopping  and  go  to  the  opera  every 
evening." 

"  I  hope  you  won't  deprive  me  of  the  pleasure  of 
welcoming  you  until  I  am  mayor." 

"We  shall  be  glad  to  be  welcomed  any  time,  but 
III 


John    Van    Buren^    Politician 

you  must  be  mayor,  and  have  the  mounted  police 
meet  us  at  the  Grand  Central  Station.  That  is  my 
one  ambition,  to  be  escorted  by  a  squad  of  big  New 
York  policemen." 

"I'll  call  out  the  national  guard  and  the  fire 
department,  too." 

''You'll  have  no  opportunity  to  talk  politics  here, 
Van  Buren.  Come  along  and  dine  with  us,"  said 
the  senator. 

"First  we'll  all  go  to  the  park  and  see  Colonel 
Ring's  statuary,"  suggested  Miss  Marlow. 

"  T  heard  all  about  it  at  Colonel  Ring's  dinner  last 
night,  but  I've  seen  only  the  miniature,"  said  Van 
Buren. 

The  three  w^ent  out  through  the  private  door  to 
the  victoria  and  drove  up  State  Street  to  the  park. 
The  noise  of  the  wheels  over  the  paving-stones  pre- 
vented continouus  conversation.  Van  Buren  sat 
facing  Miss  Marlow,  asking  himself  why  he  had 
never  noticed  her  before.  He  had  seen  her  often 
at  the  Albany  assemblies,  and  occasionally  she  had 
come  over  to  Schenectady  to  the  college  dances. 
At  both  she  was  a  favorite,  always  surrounded 
by  men  and  the  recipient  of  constant  attention. 
Van  Buren  had  attributed  this,  so  far  as  he  had 
thought  about  it  at  all,  to  her  father's  prominence 
and  the  general  desire  of  yoimg  men  to  be  in  his 
good  graces.  This  afternoon  Van  Buren  changed 
his  mind. 

Miss  Marlow  was  good  to  look  upon.  She  was 
tall  and  square-shouldered.  Her  hair  was  a  peril- 
ous shade  of  red  that  her  black  eyebrows  and  violet 
eyes  made  beautiful.     It  would  not  stay  in  place, 

112 


John    Van    Barcnt    Politician 

and  stray  strands  fluttered  loose  from  time  to  time, 
which  she  tucked  back  with  an  unconscious  move- 
ment of  her  hand.  Her  gloves  were  like  a  man's. 
Her  dress  was  of  the  same  cheviot  plaid  a  man 
might  wear.  Her  hat  and  her  tie  were  feminine, 
for  no  woman  can  tie  a  four-in-hand  like  a  man. 
When  she  talked  she  looked  Van  Buren  in  the  eyes, 
a  habit  she  inherited  from  her  father.  Her  eyes 
talked  more  than  her  tongue ;  at  least,  that  was  Van 
Buren 's  impression.  Without  effort  she  made  him 
feel  at  his  ease,  and  he  was  convinced  that  she 
desired  his  friendship  and  admiration.  It  was 
something  in  her  manner  and  attitude,  and  Van 
Buren  was  flattered  that  he  was  the  object,  or  the 
cause,  of  such  a  delightful  attitude.  He  had  not 
yet  learned  that  Miss  Marlow  bore  that  attitude 
towards  all  men,  another  inheritance  from  her 
father,  who  made  every  man  who  came  to  the 
little  office  feel  that  his  support  and  his  friendship 
were  desired  above  all  things  by  Daniel  Marlow. 

The  victoria  stopped  in  front  of  the  bronze  Moses 
and  bulrushes  before  Van  Buren  had  decided  what 
his  attitude  towards  Miss  Marlow  should  be.  With 
all  her  friendliness  she  was  imposing.  Her  devel- 
oped figure  and  the  ringlets  and  pose  of  her  head 
suggested  one  of  the  goddesses  in  a  mythological 
group  near  by.  But  Van  Buren  could  not  make  up 
his  mind  which  goddess,  and  then  he  did  not  think 
any  goddess  had  ever  had  exactly  her  shade  of  red 
hair;  it  was  too  human,  a  sort  of  a  wami,  purply, 
blood  red,  and  then  came  the  thought  that  maybe 
Miss  Marlow  had  a  blood-thirsty  side  and  looked 
on  all  men  as  possible  prey.     It  was  a  bad  habit, 

113 


John   Van   Burcn,    Politician 

this  of  Van  Buren's,  of  letting  his  mind  roam  on 
analogical  tours. 

''You'll  never  do  in  politics,  Mr.  Van  Buren," 
broke  in  Miss  Marlow.  ''You  must  pay  attention. 
Here  is  Moses,  and  I  don't  know  what  your  reverie 
is  about;  but  to  succeed  you  must  always  concen- 
trate your  thoughts  on  the  matter  in  hand,  and  that 
is  Moses.  Where  do  you  think  Moses  would  stand 
on  the  reapportionment  bill?" 

"He  would  have  to  be  unanimous.  That  is  one 
thing  in  favor  of  one-man  power." 

"  It  is  so  much  easier  for  one  man  to  make  up  his 
mind  than  a  caucus." 

"That  depends  on  the  man  and  the  kind  of  mind 
he  has.     I  don't  know  about  a  woman's  mind." 

"  That  is  simple.  A  woman  doesn't  make  up  her 
mind.  Her  mind  makes  up  itself,  and  a  committee 
of  women  never  work  together  so  well  as  a  com- 
mittee of  men,  because  they  try  to  do  things  men- 
fashion,  and  I  do  not  think  women  appear  to  their 
best  advantage  as  imitators  of  men." 

"Yes,  all  men  are  alike,  and  the  larger  the  com- 
mittee the  easier  it  is  to  control  it.  Every  woman 
is  different,  and,  therefore,  it  is  easier  to  manage 
one  woman  and  impossible  to  control  several." 

"What  an  expression,  Mr.VanBuren,  'Managing 
one  woman !'    Was  there  ever  a  man  who  did  that  ?" 

"Many  men  have  thought  they  did." 

"Just  because  so  many  women  find  that  is  the 
easiest  way  to  manage  their  fathers  and  husbands 
and  brothers.  It  is  easier  to  get  a  man  to  do  what 
you  want  if  you  put  the  idea  in  his  head  and  let 
him  believe  he  is  doing  it." 

114 


John    Van    Barent    Politician 

"Do  you  apply  those  methods  to  me?"  asked 
Senator  Marlow. 

''Certainly  not,  father,  you  always  do  what  I 
want  without  my  having  to  manage  you." 

They  drove  around  the  park  on  both  sides  of  the 
pretty  lake,  and  back  through  Englewood  Place, 
where  a  corner,  which  seems  to  be  in  the  park, 
has  been  reserved  for  the  residences  of  wealthy 
Albanians. 

"There  is  something  I  don't  think  you  would  see 
anywhere  else,"  said  Van  Buren.  "It  is  virtually 
allowing  people  to  live  in  the  park." 

"Are  you  envious?"  asked  Miss  Marlow.  "I 
shouldn't  care  to  live  there.  It  is  too  isolated. 
The  park  colony  is  placed  on  the  hill  like  targets 
for  spiteful  comment." 

"Maybe  they  enjoy  it.  Some  people  do  not  care 
to  have  what  nobody  else  wants,  and  they  measure 
its  value  by  the  number  desiring  it." 

"Is  that  an  admission  or  an  abstraction?" 

"  Both.  It  is  human  nature  to  enjoy  the  envy 
of  others.  And  I  confess  that  I  am  not  indifferent 
to  public  approbation." 

"There  are  all  kinds  of  approbation,  the  kind  you 
create  and  the  kind  you  cater  to." 

"  I  like  to  please  those  I  am  with.  It  pleases  me 
to  know  I  am  pleasing  them." 

"  But  there  are  so  many  shades  of  pleasing  people. 
They  may  like  you  from  pity  or  sympathy  or  ad- 
miration or  necessity." 

"  Don't  you  like  to  be  liked?'* 

"Yes,  and  no.  It  depends  how  and  where,  and 
by  whom.     A  man  takes  flattery  as  a  child  wants 

IIS 


John    Van    Btifcn,    Politician 

its  molasses,  spread  on  thick  where  it  can  be  seen 
and  touched  as  well  as  tasted.  A  woman  prefers 
unconscious  flattery,  from  another  woman  rather 
than  a  man.  Most  men  flatter  as  if  they  were  at 
work,  condescendingly  performing  a  conscientious 
duty.     It  rasps  me." 

Senator  Marlow's  thoughts  were  far  off.  ''Did 
you  see  much  of  Mr.  Coulter  in  New  York?"  he 
asked.  "What  is  the  feeling  in  the  city?  The 
action  of  the  National  Convention  strengthens  us 
everywhere  else.  We  should  carry  the  State  this 
fan." 

"I  think  Mr.  Coulter  will  do  his  best.  Tammany 
has  learned  by  experience  that  bolting  is  unprofit- 
able." 

'*I  don't  fear  a  bolt,  but  lukewarmness.  Some- 
times open  opposition  is  better  than  torpidity." 

The  victoria  stopped  in  front  of  the  Elk  Street 
house.  Mrs.  Marlow  was  pouring  tea  for  several 
of  her  callers.  Van  Buren  went  in  to  pay  his  re- 
spects to  her.  He  stood  in  awe  of  Mrs.  Marlow.  He 
took  his  tea  and  nibbled  one  of  the  little  cookies. 
Mrs.  Marlow  always  served  little  cookies  made  up 
from  an  old  Dutch  recipe,  and  there  was  a  toy  carafe 
of  rum,  and  another  of  schnapps,  which  went  better 
with  tea  than  cream  and  sugar.  There  were  several 
women,  a  general,  the  State  comptroller,  a  bishop 
from  Boston,  and  an  Englishman — there  was  always 
a  foreigner.  Van  Buren  did  not  fit  in  comfortably, 
and  as  soon  as  he  could  he  drifted  back  to  Senator 
Marlow's  little  library  and  joined  the  senator  and 
Miss  Marlow  at  work. 

"  Come  in.  Van  Buren.  That's  all  to-day,  Mary," 
ii6 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

the  senator  said.  ''We  go  over  our  little  matters 
here.     Mary  is  a  better  politician  than  I  am." 

Miss  Marlow  went  up-stairs  to  dress  for  dinner, 
and  Van  Buren  told  the  senator  his  plans  and  pur- 
poses. The  senator  thought  it  doubtful  that  he 
could  be  elected  to  the  assembly  from  the  Murray 
Hill  district.  The  Republican  majority  was  too 
large,  and  in  a  Presidential  year  the  tendency  is  to 
vote  the  straight  ticket. 

''Still,  it  '11  be  a  good  experience  for  you,"  added 
the  senator.  "  Only  don't  be  a  candidate  too  often, 
and  a  term  or  two  in  the  legislature  is  enough  for 
any  young  man„  Attend  to  your  profession.  Be 
active  in  politics,  but  keep  out  of  office.  Be  known 
as  a  lawyer  in  politics  instead  of  a  politician  who 
has  a  law-office." 

"Commissioner  Mahoney  thinks  there  is  a  fair 
prospect  of  my  election.  It  is  a  Mugwump  district, 
and  the  present  Republican  assemblyman  is  un- 
popular with  them." 

"Why  not  have  our  Mugwump  friends  nominate 
an  assembly  candidate  of  their  own.  Suggest  it 
to  the  commissioner.  But,  of  course,  not  connect- 
ing me  with  the  suggestion.  That  is  a  difficulty  we 
have  with  our  Tammany  friends.  Their  methods 
are  somewhat  crude.  Forethought  and  skilful  ar- 
rangements may  bring  about  success  where  brute 
strength  and  forcible  methods  fail." 


XIV 

IHERE  was  no  guest  at  dinner  be- 
sides Van  Buren.  Miss  Marlow  had 
changed  her  cheviot  street -dress  for 
a  soft  black-and-white  dinner -gown, 
which  gave  somewhat  the  effect  of 
sitting  for  a  portrait.  She  wore  no  jewelry,  no  rings 
even.  There  was  nothing  to  draw  attention  from 
the  purply  red  hair,  the  dark  eyebrows  and  violet 
eyes  from  which  Van  Buren  could  not  keep  his 
gaze.  He  knew  at  once  that  Miss  Marlow  was  con- 
scious of  his  admiration,  and  he  feared  that  the 
knowledge  extended  to  her  father  and  mother.  Mrs. 
Marlow  conducted  the  dinner  conversation.  It 
concerned  general  topics,  Church  and  State,  the 
growing  social  difference  between  the  St.  Paul's 
and  the  cathedral  families,  which  had  not  yet  ex- 
tended to  Schenectady,  and  the  recent  remarriages 
of  several  widows  and  widowers,  interspersed  with 
comments  on  the  proposed  legislation  to  make  New 
York's  corporation  laws  more  liberal  and  the  prob- 
able result  of  the  Presidential  election.  The  talk 
was  somewhat  mechanical,  Mrs.  Marlow  leading 
from  topic  to  topic.  Miss  Marlow  insisting  on  Van 
Buren  giving  his  views,  the  senator  conducting  his 
own  train  of  thought,  and  catching  and  replying  to 
a  phrase  now  and  then,  and  Van  Buren  thinking  all 

ii8 


John    Van    Bttren,  Politician 

the  while  how  remarkable  it  was  that  he  had  never 
before  noticed  how  beautiful  was  Miss  Marlow's 
coloring,  and  that  nothing  was  so  effective  as  a 
black-and-white  dinner -gown.  He  began  to  sus- 
pect that  he  was  hardly  civilly  coherent  in  his  re- 
plies, and  it  was  with  relief  that  he  welcomed  the 
dinner's  end.  Mrs.  Marlow  expected  a  committee 
of  ladies  to  hold  a  woman's  auxiliary  meeting,  and 
the  senator  was  in  the  habit  of  walking  up  to  the 
Holland  Club  after  dinner.  He  disliked  men  to 
call  at  his  house  on  political  errands,  and  he  made 
it  a  point  to  be  found  at  his  office,  or  at  the  club  for 
an  hour  or  so  in  the  evening,  to  prevent  being  sought 
for  in  his  home. 

Miss  Marlow  took  Van  Buren  into  her  father's  den. 
**  You  may  smoke  here,"  she  said.  ''Father  smokes 
all  over  the  house  when  he  smokes  at  all.  But 
that  is  so  seldom.  I  don't  think  he  knows  one 
cigar  from  another." 

"I  was  never  so  thankful  that  I  am  in  politics 
as  to-night.  My  eyes  have  been  opened  to  many 
things,"  blurted  Van  Buren. 

"That  is  more  enigmatical  than  your  greeting 
this  afternoon." 

*'I  don't  know  what  possessed  me  at  the  dinner- 
table.  I  feel  that  I  should  apologize  to  your  mother 
and  father." 

"Why  am  I  excluded?" 

"You  are  not.  You  should  make  my  excuses 
for  me,  for  you  are  the  cause  of  the  necessity 
for  them.  I  haven't  a  versatile  mind,  and  my 
thoughts  and  speech  refuse  to  run  in  different 
lines." 

9  119 


John    Van    Btiren,   Politician 

''That  is  a  difficulty  I  never  noticed  in  you  be- 
fore." 

"Thank  you.  I  didn't  think  you  had  ever  no- 
ticed me  at  all  before." 

"I've  often  admired  you  from  afar  off.  You 
looked  so  statesmanlike."  Miss  Marlow  laughed 
satirically.  "I  couldn't  very  well  send  an  embassy 
to  you  when  I  have  seen  you.  Could  I  send  you 
word  that  Miss  I\Iarlow  begged  the  honor  of  the 
next  waltz?" 

"I  never  thought  I  was  a  prig." 

"You  always  looked  so  superior  to  frivolous 
things.  Maybe  it's  as  well  you  didn't  come  near  me. 
I  don't  approve  of  that  condescending  manner  which 
I  rather  judge  from  this  evening  you  reserve  for  the 
Albany  assemblies.     I  will  not  be  patronized." 

"Who  would  dare?  I  am  sure  I  should  never 
permit  the  presumptuous  thought.  I  would  like 
to  tell  you  what  I  really  was  thinking  to-night." 

"Don't.  Never  tell  tales.  Besides,  I  think  I 
know,  and  you  might  tell  me  differently,  which 
would  not  please  me  so  well." 

"You  might  tell  me,  then,  and  let  me  amend  my 
thoughts." 

"There  speaks  the  next  assemblyman  from  Mur- 
ray Hill.     Amendments  are  not  now  in  order." 

"I  wish  I  could  apply  political  methods  to  you," 
retorted  Van  Buren,  earnestly.  "I  would  call  a 
caucus  and  submit  my  resolutions." 

"Please,  Mr.  Van  Buren,  leave  out  politics.  I 
was  brought  up  on  politics,  and  I  wish  the  men  I 
know  would  talk  about  something  else.  There  is 
Captain  Focht,  of  Troy — every  time  I  meet  him  at 

I20 


John    Van    Burent   Politician 

a  dance  or  at  tea  he  gives  me  an  account  of  the 
Rensselaer  County  convention  or  the  Greenbush 
primaries.  I  think  he  tutors  up  on  purpose.  Still, 
it  is  quite  a  compliment  to  have  a  man  try  to  please 
you.  Only  he  knows  so  much  more  about  golf  than 
politics,  and  I  should  rather  talk  golf." 

''  Somehow  I  never  thought  of  talking  golf  to  you." 

"Try  it." 

*'Once  upon  a  time,  when  you  were  a  little  girl, 
golf  was  imported  to  Albany.  I  happened  to  be 
out  at  the  Country  Club  the  day  the  golf  clubs  ar- 
rived. They  had  been  imported,  for,  so  far  as  I 
knew,  no  golf  clubs  were  made  in  this  country 
then.  Four  or  five  of  us  were  there  and  tried 
them.  There  were  only  two  sets  of  clubs.  After 
I  had  broken  three  in  unsuccessful  attempts  to  hit 
the  ball,  it  was  suggested  that  unless  I  desired  to 
suspend  the  playing  until  later  in  the  season  I  should 
suspend  until  the  next  importation.  I  have  never 
played  since.  1  came  to  the  conclusion  that  an  ap- 
preciative audience  is  as  necessary  for  the  success  of 
a  golf  club  as  the  players,  and  since  my  first  efforts 
I  have  tried  my  best  to  be  the  appreciative  au- 
dience." 

**I  am  sure  you  succeeded." 

"My  capacity  for  appreciation  is  not  limited  to 
golf." 

"  I  suppose  it  extends  to  politics,  though  I  fancied 
this  afternoon  it  was  lacking  as  to  statuary." 

"  It  extends  to  dinner-gowns.  By-the-way,  have 
you  ever  had  your  portrait  painted?  When  you 
do,  keep  this  gown  for  the  occasion.  I  shall  spend 
hours  at  the  gallery  where  it  is  exhibited." 

121 


John    Van    Buren,   Politician 

*'I  can  give  you  my  dressmaker's  address.  She 
will  be  glad  to  duplicate  it." 

''An  imitation  is  never  the  same.  Two  girls  may 
wear  the  same  size  of  gloves,  but  it  doesn't  follow 
that  their  hands  look  alike." 

"Sagacious  man!" 

Van  Buren's  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  gleam  of  the 
purply  red  hair.  There  were  so  many  things  about 
it  he  wanted  to  say.  He  had  an  unreasoning  im- 
pulse to  reach  over  and  take  out  the  pins  which 
held  it  high  on  her  head  and  let  the  coiled  mass 
fall.  He  wondered  if  it  would  reach  below  her 
waist.  He  thought  it  would.  He  imagined  she 
knew  what  he  was  thinking,  and  was  laughing  at 
the  thought.  She  seemed  to  be  daring  him  to  do 
it.  ''Some  day  I  will,"  he  found  himself  saying 
to  himself,  and  almost  abruptly  he  arose  and  de- 
parted, surprised  at  his  timidi'^^y  in  fleeing  from  a 
self -suggested  temptation. 

From  the  Marlow  house  Van  Buren  went  to  the 
club,  and  then  took  the  car  for  the  long  ride  to 
Schenectady.  On  the  way  he  began  to  get  acquaint- 
ed with  a  new  side  of  himself.  Van  Buren  was  not 
without  knowledge  of  women,  and  he  had  gone 
through  the  usual  experiences  with  them;  but  he 
had  never  been  desperately  in  love  with  one  of 
them,  and,  so  far  as  matrimony  was  concerned,  it 
was  too  far  off  to  be  tangible.  He  had  supposed, 
without  giving  the  matter  serious  thought,  that 
some  day,  when  he  was  famous  and  rich,  he  would 
marry.  Anyhow,  it  was  not  a  necessity  to  be  mar- 
ried. Politics  was  much  more  important.  Still,  he 
had  never  felt  an  impulse  before  to  pull  out  any 

123 


John    Van    Btiren^   Politician 

other  girl's  hair-pins.     His  thoughts  would  run  on 
that. 

He  turned  over  in  his  drowsy  mind  what  he  would 
have  done  with  Mary  Marlow  that  evening  had  they 
been  alone  on  a  desert  island.  First,  he  would  have 
taken  out  the  pins  from  her  hair,  one  by  one,  with 
a  long  interval  between.  He  did  not  know  how 
many  there  were,  but  he  hoped  there  were  hun- 
dreds. The  mass  of  gleaming  red  might  fall  all  of 
a  sudden,  or,  more  likely,  it  would  unroll  coil  by 
coil,  strand  by  strand,  tendril  by  tendril.  He  would 
prefer  the  last.  Yes,  he  would  be  careful  to  take 
out  the  pins  slowly,  and  with  judgment,  to  prolong 
the  pleasure.  Then,  when  it  was  all  uncoiled,  he 
would  measure  it.  He  would  take  the  smallest 
measure  in  the  world,  so  that  the  measuring  would 
last  a  long  time,  and  he  would  have  her  hold  the 
end  of  the  largest  coil  while  he  did  the  measuring, 
and  when  he  had  measured  the  coil  he  would  kiss 
every  hair  separately,  not  her  Hps,  that  was  far  in 
the  future,  and  he  was  young,  and  going  to  live  for 
years,  and  it  would  be  foolish  to  do  everything  at 
once  and  leave  nothing  for  the  future.  It  would 
be  sufficient  for  the  present  to  kiss  every  hair.  He 
wondered  if  cannibals  ate  hair.  Probably  not.  It 
was  too  good  to  eat,  for  that  would  be  the  end  of  it. 
He  forced  his  thoughts  to  stop  there,  and  then  he 
recalled  how  he  had  read,  somewhere,  that  every- 
body's head  had  hundreds  of  thousands  of  hairs, 
and  that  black  heads  had  not  so  many  hairs  as 
red,  and  he  was  glad  it  was  so.  He  slept  until  the 
car  reached  Schenectady. 

Next  morning,    at  breakfast,   Van   Buren  could 

123 


John    Van    Barcnt   Politician 

tell   that   his    mother    had   something    to    say   to 
him. 

"Well,  what  is  it  this  morning,  mumsie?"  he 
asked. 

*'  I  have  been  thinking  it  is  time  for  you  to  be 
more  settled.  You  are  getting  older,  and  you  have 
marked  out  your  course  in  New  York.  You  should 
have  your  own  home  there." 

"This  home  here  is  good  enough  for  me,  and  I 
don't  want  anybody  but  you." 

"  It  isn't  natural  or  safe  for  you  to  board  around 
by  yourself.  You  should  have  an  anchorage  and 
home  ties." 

"And  give  hostages  to  fortune." 

"Yes,  I  am  old-fashioned  enough  to  believe  that 
no  home  is  happy  without  children.  No  woman 
loses  her  baby-love.  It  would  make  me  happy  to 
see  my  grandchildren  around  me." 

"Wait  till  I  make  my  millions,  mumsie,  dear." 

"Nothing  of  the  kind.  Young  people  had  far 
better  marry  young  and  grow  up  together.  You 
have  money  enough." 

"All  right,  mother.  You  fix  it  all  up,  and  notify 
me  when  you've  found  a  wife  for  me.  Seriously, 
though,  don't  you  think  we'd  better  wait  awhile? 
Maybe  I'll  be  back  in  Schenectady  for  good  this 
time  next  year,  then  we'll  talk  it  over  again." 

Van  Buren  went  out  to  his  old  office,  where  he 
was  closing  up  the  last  of  his  Schenectady  law 
business.  He  kept  on  thinking  about  Miss  Marlow. 
Was  he  in  love  with  her?  Why  should  his  mother 
broach  the  subject  of  marriage  to  him  just  at  this 
time? 

124 


John    Van    Btiren,   Politician 

On  the  whole,  the  best  thing  he  thought  he  could 
do  was  to  go  back  to  New  York  and  attend  to 
politics.  He  stayed  the  week  out  at  Schenectady, 
until  the  close  of  the  fall  term  of  court,  tried  the 
last  of  his  Schenectady  cases,  went  to  church  Sun- 
day morning  with  his  mother  and  sat  in  the  family 
pew,  and  on  Monday  returned  to  New  York.  The 
Friday  previous  he  had  made  his  dinner  call  at  the 
Marlow's.  It  was  a  fine,  pleasant  afternoon,  and  a 
few  minutes  before  five  o'clock  he  rang  the  Marlow 
door-bell. 

*'The  ladies  are  not  at  home,"  said  the  butler. 

Van  Buren  had  counted  on  Miss  Marlow's  being 
out  driving  with  her  father,  and  he  was  not  sorry 
Mrs.  Marlow  was  not  receiving.  If  his  careful  cal- 
culations had  erred  he  would  not  have  blamed  him- 
self for  what  might  have  happened.  As  it  was,  he 
left  his  card ;  his  social  conscience  was  clear  and  the 
fever  in  his  head  was  allayed — for  the  time  being. 


XV 


I  HE  boarding  -  house  Commissioner 
Mahoney  had  selected  for  Van  Buren 
was  on  Thirty -ninth  Street  between 
Lexington  and  Park  avenues,  in  a 
strong  Republican  election  district. 
It  was  managed  by  Mrs.  Forster,  a  widow — some- 
how boarding-houses  are  a  widow's  monopoly — and 
it  was  for  "gentlemen  only."  Mrs.  Forster  ex- 
plained that  she  did  not  want  women  around ;  they 
were  too  much  trouble,  lunching  in  the  house  and 
at  home  to  dinner.  Few  of  the  'boarders  ate  any 
other  meal  in  the  house  than  breakfast.  It  was 
convenient  to  the  University  Club,  where  Van 
Buren  had  his  name  transferred  from  the  non-resi- 
dent to  the  resident  list.  Partly  out  of  curiosity, 
and  also  to  see  the  different  sides  of  life  in  the  dis- 
trict, he  made  a  round  of  all  the  restaurants  for 
dinner,  from  the  bigger  hotels  to  the  little  French 
and  Chinese  places  on  Twenty-eighth  and  Twenty- 
ninth  streets.  There  was  little  to  be  done  in  his 
law -office.  To  pass  away  the  time  he  procured 
copies  of  the  election  returns  of  the  last  ten  years 
and  sets  of  the  maps  of  the  city  by  election  districts, 
which  the  board  of  elections  publishes,  and  studied 
them  until  he  was  fully  familiar  with  the  neighbor- 
hoods and   their  majorities.     From  day  to  day  he 

126 


John    Van    Buren,  Politician 

visited  the  district  courts  and  the  poHce  courts, 
which  to  him  were  the  most  interesting  phases  of 
court  life,  although  he  decided  he  did  not  care  for 
that  kind  of  law  practice. 

Many  of  the  court  clerks  were  members  of  the 
Juniata  Club,  and  when  he  first  began  dropping  in 
at  the  police  courts  the  clerks  undertook  to  put 
him  in  the  way  of  business.  The  defendants  in 
police  courts  he  found  were  of  two  classes,  those 
with  money  and  those  without.  The  defendant 
who  had  no  money  or  friends  was  practically  con- 
victed from  the  start.  His  progress  from  the  police 
court  to  the  penitentiary,  or  State's  prison,  was 
merely  a  matter  of  time,  and  the  energy  of  some 
assistant  district  attorney.  His  guilt  or  inno- 
cence of  the  particular  offence  with  which  he  was 
charged  interested  nobody.  A  burglary,  a  theft, 
or  an  assault  had  been  committed,  and  the  police 
felt  it  necessary  that  some  one  should  be  convicted. 
Nine  times  out  of  ten  the  defendant  was  guilty,  but 
no  distinction  was  made  in  the  tenth  case. 

Where  the  defendant  had  money  the  processes 
of  the  law  were  systematically  used  to  get  it  away 
from  him.  Beginning  with  the  policeman  who 
made  the  arrest,  money  was  taken.  At  the  station- 
house  a  professional  bondsman  could  be  had  by 
paying  for  it,  the  sergeant  getting  part  of  the  charge. 
If  the  defendant's  own  lawyer  was  not  at  hand,  the 
police  and  the  court  clerks  would  furnish  a  lawyer 
who  secured  adjournments  of  the  examinations  as 
long  as  the  money  held  out.  Witnesses  to  estab- 
lish an  alibi  or  any  other  defence  were  easily  se- 
cured.    Out  on  bail,  the  defendant  could  have  his 

127 


John    Van    Buren,   Politician 

trial  postponed  almost  indefinitely,  unless  too  much 
newspaper  attention  was  drawn  to  the  case  or  some 
other  reason  stirred  up  the  district  attorney's  office 
to  activity.  Usually  the  delays  could  be  prolonged 
as  long  as  the  money  held  out. 

Van  Buren  learned  that  every  interest  affected 
by  the  penal  code  had  well-organized  legal  machin- 
ery to  prevent  the  enforcement  of  the  law.  Even 
the  wholesale  merchants  who  used  the  sidewalks  for 
storage,  in  violation  of  the  city  ordinances,  had 
their  violations  of  the  law  systematized,  while  the 
policy  men,  the  gamblers,  and  the  keepers  of  all- 
night  resorts  had  bondsmen,  lawyers,  court  and 
police  officials  in  receipt  of  regular  salaries  to  at- 
tend to  their  interests.  To  such  an  extent  was  this 
system  of  fees  and  salaries  developed  that  the  al- 
liance of  lawyers,  bondsmen,  police  and  court  clerks 
was  always  on  the  lookout  for  some  new  source 
of  revenue  or  for  a  pretext  of  additional  charges 
from  these  established  industries.  The  combination 
rather  welcomed  outside  crusades  and  the  societies 
with  many  names  which  sporadically  discovered  that 
policy  was  sold,  that  such  games  as  faro  and  roulette 
were  played  for  money,  and  that  intoxicating  liquors 
were  sold  after  one  o'clock  at  night.  Every  agita- 
tion was  a  pretext  of  additional  charges. 

Occasionally  Van  Buren  would  go  down  to  Para- 
dise Park  to  call  on  Judge  Murphy  and  his  family. 
It  was  a  part  of  New  York  which  never  tired  him. 
Whenever  he  felt  despondent  he  would  walk  along 
Division  Street,  under  the  shadow  of  the  elevated, 
and  look  in  the  blocks  of  windows  where  the  East 
Side  girls  buy  their  finer}^  and  watch  the  wistful 

128 


John   Van   Barent  Politician 

faces  of  the  girls  looking  in  the  windows,  envying  the 
possessors  of  what  they  could  not  buy,  the  women 
barkers  and  pullers-in  discriminating  accurately  be- 
tween the  possible  purchasers  and  the  passers-by 
without  money.  Then  he  would  turn  on  into  Hester 
Street,  where  no  man  except  the  police  was  within  a 
head  of  his  height,  to  see  the  great  out-door  market, 
the  long -bearded  Poles  with  their  push-carts,  the 
married  women  with  shorn  heads  and  hideous  wigs 
to  make  sure  they  would  be  attractive  to  no  one  but 
their  husbands,  the  younger  generation  embarking 
in  trade  with  a  curb-stone  stock  of  goods,  but  within 
a  few  years  to  join  those  of  their  race  who  already 
monopolize  the  Broadway  wholesale  district.  In  a 
few  minutes  he  would  make  the  round  of  these 
nationalities,  through  Chinatown,  and  back  to  the 
Italians  of  Mulberry  and  Mott  streets,  the  former 
strongholds  of  the  Irish,  who  have  gone  farther  up 
town,  leaving  only  a  Catholic  church  and  an  Irish 
undertaker  as  their  relics.  The  sight  of  all  this,  of 
the  melancholy  of  the  old  men  and  married  women, 
contrasted  with  the  joyousness  of  the  American- 
born  generation,  always  impressed  Van  Buren  with 
a  better  opinion  of  his  own  prospects,  and,  some- 
how, gave  him  hope  and  more  confidence  of  his 
own  future. 

Shortly  after  his  return  to  New  York  Van  Buren 
had  his  first  New  York  law  case.  Several  of  Com-, 
missioner  Mahoney's  district  committeemen  were 
saloon-keepers.  One  of  these,  Kehoe  by  name,  had 
a  costly  place  on  Sixth  Avenue,  and  still  owned  the 
saloon  on  Cherry  Hill  where  he  began  as  a  bar- 
tender.    Kehoe  came  to  Van  Buren's  office  one  day 

129 


John    Van    Btircnt   Politician 

and  aired  a  grievance.  Because  the  business  de- 
manded it,  he  explained  (though  the  real  reason 
was  that  he  felt  more  at  home  and  comfortable  in 
the  old  place),  he  was  in  the  habit  of  spending  one 
or  two  days  in  the  week  on  Cherry  Hill.  Some 
years  before,  on  one  of  these  visiting  days,  a  long- 
shoreman had  persisted  in  eating  a  disproportionate 
amount  of  free  lunch.  "A  five-cent  drink  doesn't 
entitle  you  to  a  course  dinner,"  Mr.  Kehoe  had 
objected.  The  longshoreman  retorted  with  a  few 
choice  epithets  such  as  are  customary  on  Cherry  Hill. 

*'I  couldn't  lower  myself  to  his  vocabulary," 
Mr.  Kehoe  told  Van  Buren,  ''  so  I  just  stepped  from 
behind  the  bar  and  kicked  him  out  the  door.  He 
stands  on  the  street  blasphemin'  me,  and  not  wantin' 
to  soil  my  hands  with  him  further,  I  picked  up  one 
of  the  knives  from  the  lunch  table  and  prodded 
him  a  little  in  the  shoulder.  Some  skin  lawyer  gets 
hold  of  him  and  has  him  sue  me  for  ten  thou- 
sand dollars  for  that  little  prod.  My  lawyer  goes 
and  dies  this  week,  and  the  case  is  comin'  up  for 
trial  next  Tuesday." 

Upon  investigation  Van  Buren  found  that  Mr. 
Kehoe  had  come  out,  knife  in  hand,  and  chased  the 
longshoreman  the  length  of  a  block.  While  the 
longshoreman  was  running  ]\Ir.  Kehoe  inserted  the 
knife  half  its  length  back  of  his  shoulder-blade.  The 
man  was  in  the  hospital  some  weeks,  and  it  was  by 
a  narrow  margin  he  did  not  die.  As  it  was,  his 
shoulder  was  crippled  and  he  could  not  work  at  his 
trade.  He  had  sued  for  damages  for  the  injury. 
There  were  thirty  or  forty  witnesses  and  no  dis- 
puting the  facts.     Mr.  Kehoe  had  lost  his  temper, 

130 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

and,  as  a  legal  question,  Van  Buren  doubted  whether 
the  taking  of  a  few  extra  handfuls  of  crackers,  cheese, 
and  pickles  justified  the  stabbing  of  a  fleeing  man. 
He  had  never  heard  of  a  lawsuit  like  that  in  Sche- 
nectady. It  behooved  him  to  do  his  best,  for  it 
was  his  first  New  York  case,  and  he  went  through 
all  his  law-books  looking  up  authorities.  The  more 
he  looked  up  the  more  hopeless  the  case  appeared. 
There  was  no  real  question  as  to  the  facts ;  and  the 
law  was  hopeless.  He  reflected  that  the  less  one 
tried  to  contradict  indisputable  facts,  and  the  more 
one  steered  away  from  equally  indisputable  law,  the 
better  for  his  client. 

The  trial  began  the  next  Thursday  in  the  Su- 
preme Court.  Van  Buren  and  his  client  appeared 
without  a  witness.  The  plaintiff  was  accompanied 
by  a  large  section  of  the  population  of  Cherry  HilL 
In  choosing  the  jury  Van  Buren  took  pains  to  se- 
cure well-dressed  business  men  with  up-town  resi- 
dences. To  prevent  the  calling  of  the  hospital 
physicians,  or  of  any  other  witnesses  than  the 
Cherry  Hill  inhabitants.  Van  Buren  stated  to  the 
court  that  he  would  admit  the  injuries  and  their 
extent  to  be  as  alleged  in  the  complaint.  The  trial 
proceeded,  and  witness  after  witness  testified  to  see- 
ing Kehoe  chase  the  longshoreman  and  stab  him 
in  the  back.  They  told  their  stories  with  gusto  in 
full  detail.  Van  Buren  asked  every  witness  the 
same  questions,  and,  except  to  one  question,  he  re- 
ceived the  same  answers,  as  follows: 

"What  ward  do  you  live  in?" 

"The  fourth." 

"  Known  as  the  bloody  fourth,  isn't  it?" 
131 


John    Van    Buren,   Politician 

"Yah." 

''Who  is  the  alderman?" 

"Moriarity." 

"A  scene  Hke  that  which  you  have  described  is 
a  frequent  sight  in  that  neighborhood,  is  it  not?" 

"Sure  it  is." 

"You  say  the  defendant,  Mr.  Kehoe,  had  a  knife 
in  his  hand.     What  kind  of  a  knife  was  it?" 

On  this  point  there  was  a  conflict  of  testimony. 
All  the  witnesses  said  it  was  a  knife  from  the  lunch 
counter,  but  some  said  it  was  the  bread-knife  and 
others  swore  it  was  the  cheese-knife.  Van  Buren 
had  a  sheet  of  legal-cap  paper,  and  as  each  witness 
testified  he  made  a  tally  on  the  sheet  as  to  which 
kind  of  knife  was  used.  The  jury,  the  judge,  and 
the  spectators  became  more  and  more  interested  as 
Van  Buren  continued,  asking  every  witness  the  same 
question  and  making  his  tallies.  He  held  the  paper 
so  that  the  jury  could  see  that  he  had  written ' '  bread ' ' 
on  one  tally  line,  and  "  cheese"  on  the  other. 

Thirty  -  five  eye  -  witnesses  testified  one  after  the 
other  to  the  details  of  the  assault.  The  trial  of  the 
case  had  lasted  over  three  days,  and  the  judge  and 
the  jury  were  tired  and  irritated,  and  hostile  to  the 
plaintiff's  lawyer.  The  judge  had  suggested  sev- 
eral times  that  there  was  no  necessity  for  all  these 
witnesses  repeating  the  bame  story,  but  the  plain- 
tiff's counsel  had  prepared  the  case  thoroughly  on 
the  theory  of  enlarging  the  verdict  by  the  over- 
whelming evidence. 

When  the  longshoreman's  case  was  closed  Van 
Buren  arose,  and,  addressing  the  court  and  jury, 
explained  that  he  had  no  desire  to  tire  them  further 

132 


John    Van    Btiren,    Politician 

by  calling  additional  witnesses,  for  his  witnesses, 
indeed,  the  defendant  himself,  had  nothing  to  say  in 
dispute  of  what  had  been  testified  to.  He  thought 
that  plaintiff's  able  counsel  had  omitted  the  impor- 
tant features  of  the  case,  and  he  therefore  had  sought 
to  bring  these  facts  before  the  jury. 

'* Gentlemen  of  the  jury,"  he  continued,  "you 
will  note  that  all  the  witnesses  were  in  accord  in  their 
answers  to  all  the  questions  which  I  asked  except 
the  last,  and  I  assume  that  with  this  unanimity 
of  statement  out  of  the  mouths  of  the  plaintiff's 
own  witnesses  you  will  regard  it  as  a  settled  fact 
that  these  occurrences  here  described  took  place  in 
the  famous  fourth  ward,  of  which  the  well-known 
Moriarity  is  the  alderman  and  boss,  and  that  such 
happenings  are  in  that  neighborhood  matters  of 
frequent  and  casual  occurrence.  In  such  neighbor- 
hoods as  you  gentlemen  reside  in  it  might  be  regarded 
as  an  unusual  and  serious  thing  for  one  gentleman 
to  insert  a  knife,  no  matter  what  the  nature  or 
character  of  the  knife,  into  the  person  of  another 
gentleman.  But  in  passing  upon  an  event  of  this 
nature  you  must  consider  where  it  occurred  and  the 
character  of  the  people  and  the  neighborhood,  and 
you  will  note  that  according  to  this  multitude  of 
witnesses  this  was  nothing  but  a  bit  of  common, 
every-day  pleasantry,  a  sort  of  repartee  in  which 
the  inhabitants  of  Cherry  Plill  frequently  indulge. 

"  The  important— in  fact,  the  only  discrepancy  in 
the  testimony,  is  as  to  the  character  of  the  knife. 
On  that  point  I  have  kept  careful  tally,  and  the 
result  shows  that  nineteen  witnesses  testified  that 
it  was  the  bread-knife  and  sixteen  that  it  was  the 

133 


John   Van   Btsretif  Politician 

cheese  -  knife.  The  witnesses  on  both  sides  are 
equally  earnest  and  positive  in  their  statements, 
and  the  court  will  tell  you,  as  a  matter  of  law,  that 
preponderance  of  evidence  is  not  numerical  pre- 
ponderance but  preponderance  of  credibility.  I 
must  confess  that  on  this  one  important  question 
I  am  myself  in  grave  doubt.  It  is  the  province  of 
the  jury  to  pass  upon  it,  and  to  my  mind  it  is  the 
only  question  in  the  case.  You  will  pardon  me  for 
quoting  poetry,  but  there  is  a  gem  I  heard  at  the 
rooms  of  the  Moriarity  x\ssociation  the  other  even- 
ing which  I  think  well  applies  to  this  case : 

"  In  the  fourth  ward,  the  fourth  ward, 
Where  the  big  majority 
Gives  the  people  authority, 
They  vote  for  Moriarity, 
And  Moriarity  rules  the  roost." 

The  jury  and  the  court  alike  were  roaring  with 
laughter  at  the  clos-e  of  his  speech.  The  plaintiff's 
counsel  rose  and  made  an  elaborate  argument.  The 
jury  went  out  after  a  short  and  colorless  charge  by 
the  judge  and  returned  in  a  few  minutes  with  a 
verdict  for  the  defendant,  and  with  an  additional 
statement  that  they  believed  it  was  the  bread-knife. 
It  was  disclosed  later  that  at  the  resorts  which  the 
members  of  the  jury  were  accustomed  to  frequent 
only  a  bread-knife  was  used,  and  that  to  dissever 
the  cheese  there  was  a  cheese-scoop  and  not  a  knife. 

This  victory  started  Van  Buren  on  a  tide  of  law 
business  that  was  little  to  his  taste.  Kehoe  brought 
him  other  saloon-keepers  for  clients,  and  it  was 
intimated  to  him  that  he  could  become  attorney 

134 


John    Van    Baren^    Politician 

for  the  East  Side  Saloon-keepers'  Association  if  he 
so  desired,  but  he  decHned  the  proffer.  The  fees 
he  received  were  welcome,  for  their  receipt  gave 
him  a  feeling  that  he  was  not  an  absolute  failure 
as  a  lawyer,  and,  though  the  income  he  received 
from  his  father's  estate  was  sufficient  for  his  support 
in  the  modest  way  he  was  living,  he  was  gratified 
to  know  that  he  was  not  dependent  upon  it. 

The  political  campaign  took  most  of  his  time.  It 
had  started  early,  as  always  in  Presidential  years. 
Van  Buren  frequently  visited  the  national  head- 
quarters of  both  parties  and  became  acquainted 
with  the  chairmen  and  studied  the  party  machinery. 
It  was  a  vast  business,  with  the  system  of  a  factory 
or  a  trunk-line  railroad.  What  amazed  him  was  the 
size  of  the  campaign  funds  and  the  universality  of 
contribution  to  them  by  large  corporations  and 
individuals  with  business  interests  of  magnitude. 
It  appeared  that  every  railroad,  manufacturing, 
business,  and  financial  interest  sent  contributions 
of  from  five  thousand  dollars  to  one  hundred  thou- 
sand dollars  to  one  committee  or  the  other,  and 
frequently  to  both.  It  was  regarded  as  policy 
to  put  both  political  parties  under  such  obHga- 
tions  that  in  no  event  should  unfriendly  legisla- 
tion or  hostile  action  by  public  officials  be  feared. 
The  size  of  these  contributions  was  some  measure 
of  the  returns  expected,  for  the  money  was  paid, 
not  on  account  of  the  poHtical  beliefs  of  the 
contributors,  but  simply  as  business  investments 
on  which  profitable  returns  were  to  be  had,  the 
same  as  money  spent  for  plant  or  betterments. 

It  was  planned  by  Commissioner  Mahoney  not  to 
135 


John    Van    Barent  Politician 

nominate  Van  Buren  for  the  assembly  until  the  last 
day  the  nomination  law  allowed,  as  the  renomina- 
tion  of  the  Republican  assemblyman  might  open 
the  way  to  an  independent  Mugwump  candidate. 
Van  Buren  adopted*  Senator  Marlow's  suggestion 
and  Commissioner  Mahoney  took  up  the  idea  with 
favor.  A  young  lawyer,  Thomas  Montgomery,  who 
had  professional  affiliations  with  a  railroad  company 
which  was  indebted  to  the  commissioner  for  past 
favors  and  hoped  for  more,  formed  an  independent 
Republican  association,  which  fitted  up  club-rooms, 
and  as  soon  as  the  Republicans  had  renominated 
Assemblyman  Thurton  the  independent  Republican 
association  held  a  mass  -  meeting  and  nominated 
Montgomery.  An  active  and  expensive  campaign 
in  Montgomery's  behalf  was  at  once  started.  The 
independent  Republican  association  also  adopted 
resolutions  endorsing  the  Democratic  candidate  for 
President  and  denouncing  Tammany  and  the  Tam- 
many city  and  county  tickets.  All  this  was  ar- 
ranged by  Commissioner  Mahoney  through  the 
general  counsel  of  the  railroad  company,  which  paid 
the  expenses  and  received  credit  for  the  same  from 
the  Democratic  national  committee  and  the  Tam- 
many district  committee.  Van  Buren  saw  the 
resolutions  before  they  were  presented  to  the  mass- 
meeting  and  asked  the  reason  for  the  discrimination 
against  the  city  and  county  ticket. 

*'  That  will  be  elected  beyond  question,"  explained 
the  commissioner.  **  There  is  no  independent  Demo- 
cratic movement  this  year.  They  are  afraid  it 
might  imperil  the  national  ticket,  and  it  is  good 
politics  to  roast  Tammany  in  this  district.     It  shows 

136 


John    Van    Buren,   Politician 

the  good  faith  and  high  principles  of  Montgomery 
and  his  followers.  They  are  against  all  the  ma- 
chines and  all  the  bosses." 

His  visits  to  Judge  Murphy  and  his  experiences 
at  the  district  associations  and  picnics  had  given 
Van  Buren  the  idea  that  Tammany  was  composed 
of  the  lower  element  of  New  York's  population. 
The  opportunity  he  had  to  see  the  inside  workings 
of  the  campaign  opened  his  eyes.  He  found  that 
at  least  half  of  the  rich  and  prominent  men  in  New 
York  were  Tammany  sympathizers  and  active  in  its 
counsels.  They  did  not  go  to  the  Bowery  Christmas 
dinners  or  the  Maple  Park  picnics,  for  there  was  no 
occasion  to,  but  they  did  furnish  the  campaign  fund 
and  substantial  business  support.  The  Republican 
financial  strength  came  from  merchants  and  manu- 
facturers who  were  affected  by  the  tariff  and  not 
by  the  local  government.  The  traction  and  gas- 
light companies,  the  produce  dealers,  the  builders, 
the  contractors,  and  the  local  business  interests  gen- 
erally preferred  Tammany.  It  was  not  a  matter  of 
principle  with  them,  but  they  had  found  by  ex- 
perience they  could  get  along  better  with  Tammany. 
Arrangements  made  with  Mr.  Coulter  or  with  the 
district  leader  were  good  and  definite.  Such  an 
understanding  covered  the  police  and  all  the  city 
departments,  while  with  a  Republican  or  a  reform 
local  administration  there  was  constant  trouble. 
The  precinct  police  captain  might  be  appeased  and 
police  headquarters  cause  difficulties;  the  street 
cleaning  department  might  be  propitiated  and  the 
rubbish  and  ashes  removed,  only  to  have  the  bureau 
of  encumbrances  object  to  the  use  of  the  sidewalks; 

^37 


John    Van    Barcn,   Politician 

or  the  department  of  public  works  dig  a  hole  in  the 
street  and  keep  it  open  to  the  hinderance  of  truck- 
ing and  delivering.  The  water  department,  the 
board  of  health,  and  all  the  other  branches  of  the 
municipal  government  were  each  going  along  on  its 
own  hook,  making  it  necessary  to  keep  a  lawyer 
constantly  driving,  cajoling,  and  defending  at  more 
expense  and  much  greater  trouble  than  under 
Tammany.  Tammany  had  systematized  official 
lenity  and  permitted  evasion  of  the  law  on  ordinary 
business  principles.  With  a  reform  or  Republican 
administration  there  was  no  system  and  no  head, 
only  a  horde  of  disconnected  departments  and 
officials,  a  few  honest  zealots,  the  majority  trying 
to  make  all  they  could  and  counting  on  being 
turned  out  at  the  earliest  opportunity. 


34 


XVI 


gg^^^^^^HE  real  business  of  the  campaign  was 
not  conducted  at  Tammany  Hall  or 
the  Democratic  Club  any  more  than 
the  important  affairs  of  a  bank  or 
^|3|  a  railroad  are  decided  in  the  public 
rooms  in  the  presence  of  the  clerks.  Mr.  Coulter 
was  the  deciding  power,  the  head  of  the  board  of 
directors.  Four  or  five  men  were  his  advisers  and 
consultants,  and  none  of  them  was  an  office-holder 
or  a  district  leader.  One  was  the  former  president 
of  a  street  railroad  company,  who  had  retired  from 
active  business  with  a  fortune,  and  who  kept  in 
politics  because  he  liked  it,  as  well  as  to  protect  his 
investments.  Another  was  a  lawyer,  whose  income 
was  ten  times  the  salary  of  any  city  officer,  and 
through  whom  large  fees  were  collected  in  a  strictly 
professional  way  from  corporations  desiring  favors, 
which  fees,  it  was  understood,  Mr.  Coulter  shared. 
A  third  was  one  of  the  biggest  contractors  in  the 
city,  who  took  the  largest  jobs  in  his  own  name  and 
parcelled  out  the  others  to  the  members  of  the 
contractors'  association,  a  sort  of  local  trust.  The 
fourth  was  a  leading  merchant,  the  owner  of  several 
department  stores,  and  the  head  of  a  large  manu- 
facturing concern,  in  none  of  which  his  name  ap- 
peared.    These   were   the  real   advisory  board   of 

139 


John    Van    Baren,   Politician 

Tammany,  a  board  which  any  corporation  might 
have  envied  for  their  standing,  experience,  sound 
judgment,  and  success. 

The  mass  of  patronage  these  men  controlled  was 
almost  as  vast  as  that  of  the  city  of  New  York,  and 
it  was  used  to  like  political  effect.  The  conductors, 
the  drivers,  the  motormen,  the  laborers,  the  tens  of 
thousands  of  employes  of  the  street  railroads,  were 
appointed  only  on  the  recommendation  of  a  district 
leader.  It  did  not  mean  that  an  unfit  or  incom- 
petent man  would  be  put  to  work  or  kept  employed, 
but  only  that  he  must  have  the  endorsement  of  the 
Tammany  leader  of  the  district  where  he  lived,  and 
to  get  that  insured  his  political  fealty.  In  like 
manner  with  the  thousands  of  men  working  for  the 
contractors  and,  to  a  less  extent,  for  the  builders. 
In  skilled  trades  and  in  department  stores  this 
practice  could  not  be  so  thoroughly  carried  out,  but 
it  obtained  to  as  great  an  extent  as  profitable  busi- 
ness permitted.  It  was  not  that  the  district  leaders 
were  allowed  to  put  worthless  men  to  work,  but 
that  the  endorsement  of  the  district  leader  was  re- 
quired, and  so  long  as  he  could  furnish  competent 
men  no  others  need  apply.  It  disclosed  to  Van 
Buren  what  was  the  fact,  that  the  greatest  employ- 
ment agencies  in  New  York  are  the  Tammany  dis- 
trict committees,  and  that  the  scope  of  the  jobs 
they  can  furnish  extends  to  the  professions  as  well: 
doctors,  lawyers,  engineers,  chemists,  and  account- 
ants, places  for  all  could  be  had  in  or  in  connection 
with  these  great  business  enterprises,  which  found 
an  alliance  with  Tammany  profitable. 

These  conferences  between  Mr.  Coulter  and  the 

140 


John    Van    "Buren^   Politician 

advisory  committee  usually  took  place  at  some  hotel 
or  private  house  in  the  evening.  It  was  here  the 
city  ticket  was  determined,  the  candidates  from 
the  mayoralty  down,  the  judges  and  the  congress- 
men. Except  in  rare  instances,  where  there  were 
personal  or  corporate  reasons,  Mr.  Coulter  did  not 
interfere  with  district  matters,  the  aldermen  and  the 
assemblymen,  but  above  that  rank  nominations 
were  all  passed  on  by  Mr.  Coulter  himself.  The 
general  patronage  v/as  divided  in  like  manner,  the 
smaller  jobs  parcelled  out  to  the  districts  in  a  rea- 
sonably even  division  and  the  big  places  allotted 
by  Mr.  Coulter.  It  was  the  same  system  that 
Mr.  Schwarz  employed  in  his  department  stores 
and  J\Ir.  Williamson  in  his  railroads:  the  heads  of 
departments  they  selected  themselves  after  confer- 
ence with  their  general  managers,  the  multitude  of 
smaller  places  were  filled  by  the  department  heads. 
A  great  ratification  meeting  was  to  be  held  at 
Madison  Square  Garden  after  the  city  and  count}^ 
tickets  were  nominated.  Mr.  Coulter  sent  for  Van 
Buren,  through  the  commissioner,  and  asked  him 
to  make  the  second  speech.  There  were  to  be  four 
speeches  inside  the  hall — one  by  a  Southern  senator, 
the  second  by  Van  Buren,  the  third  by  Tammany's 
leading  orator,  and  the  fourth  by  the  candidate  for 
mayor.  The  commissioner  advised  Van  Buren  not 
to  go  as  a  delegate  to  the  Tammany  convention, 
and  to  keep  out  of  newspaper  mention  in  connection 
with  Tammany  affairs,  but  to  make  his  appearance 
on  the  platform  in  support  of  the  Democratic  can- 
didate for  President.  Following  this  advice.  Van 
Buren  went  to  the  convention  as  a  spectator. 

141 


John    Van    Baren,  Politician 

The  convention  was  as  mechanical  as  a  hand- 
organ.  The  executive  committee  had  met  half  an 
hour  before.  Mr.  Coulter  took  out  of  his  pocket  a 
slip  of  paper  and  read  off  the  names  of  the  candidates 
they  were  to  nominate,  which  they  immediately  and 
unanimously  did.  The  chairman  of  the  convention 
was  one  of  those  reputable  business  men  who  like  to 
see  their  names  in  the  newspapers.  He  read  an 
elaborate  speech,  which  had  been  written  for  him. 
A  strong-voiced  young  lawyer  read  the  platform, 
which  endorsed  everything  it  did  not  denounce,  and 
it  was  unanimously  adopted.  The  mass  of  the 
delegates  to  the  convention  did  not  know  whom 
they  were  to  nominate,  although  the  names  on  Mr. 
Coulter's  slip  of  paper  began  to  be  whispered  around 
before  Congressman  Forrest,  the  official  orator  of 
Tammany,  took  the  platform,  and,  with  the  same 
earnest  eloquence  and  sonorous  tones  with  which  he 
would  have  put  the  nomination  of  any  other  man, 
sounded  the  praises  and  named  the  name  of  James 
Hascott  for  mayor.  He  was  followed  by  other 
orators,  aspirants  for  places  in  the  district  attor- 
ney's or  corporation  counsel's  office.  Mr.  Hascott 
was  then  unanimously  nominated.  Next  a  Hebrew 
was  nominated  for  president  of  the  board  of  alder- 
men, a  German  for  comptroller,  an  Irishman  for 
sheriff,  and  a  Hungarian,  an  Italian,  a  Swede,  and 
a  Frenchman  for  the  four  coroners,  thus  giving  of- 
ficial recognition,  as  far  as  the  length  of  the  ticket 
permitted,  to  every  nationality  in  New  York.  The 
nominations  were  greeted  with  uproarious  enthusi- 
as  mand  the  convention  cheerfully  adjourned.  All 
the  candidates  were  organization  men,   and  their 

142 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

nomination  was  a  spur  to  the  ambition  of  every 
immigrant  and  his  son,  an  assurance  that  by  faith- 
ful political  work  his  name  might  some  day  appear 
on  the  list  and  be  heralded  v/ith  like  cheers. 

At  the  Madison  Square  meeting  Tammany  made 
its  annual  bow  to  the  public.  The  object  of  this 
big  meeting  was  not  to  convert  opposition  voters, 
but  to  create  enthusiasm  among  the  district  work- 
ers. The  general  committee  of  every  district, 
headed  by  the  district  leader  and  a  brass  band,  at- 
tended in  a  body.  They  went  far  towards  filling  the 
hall.  On  the  platform  were  the  hundreds  of  Tam- 
many vice-presidents  and  secretaries,  selected  from 
the  Tammany  business  men,  who  regarded  this  honor 
as  an  assurance  that  they  could  use  the  sidewalks 
with  impunity  and  continue  in  the  enjoyment  of 
other  like  privileges.  The  chairman  was  a  retired 
merchant,  whose  voice  could  not  be  heard  but 
whose  speech  was  not  lost,  for  it  had  been  sent  to 
every  newspaper  office  in  advance.  A  distinguished 
Southern  senator  from  Virginia  delivered  an  elo- 
quent address,  an  hour  in  length,  dwelling  on  the 
glorious  history  and  traditions  of  the  Democratic 
party,  the  Louisiana  Purchase,  and  Thomas  Jeffer- 
son, Andrew  Jackson,  and  his  war  on  the  United 
States  Bank,  and  coming  down  to  the  great  New- 
Yorkers,  Seymour  and  Tilden.  His  speech  was 
scholarly,  polished,  well-rounded,  and  as  unintel- 
ligible to  the  average  Tammany  man  as  if  delivered 
in  German  or  Italian.  The  audience  applauded  be- 
cause the  speech  was  over  their  heads  and  they 
enjoyed  the  compliment. 

Van  Buren  came  next.  He  had  been  sitting  in 
143 


John    Van    Btircn,  Politician 

the  rear  of  the  platform  next  Mr.  Coulter,  who  kept 
himself  in  the  background.  ''Talk  patriotism  to 
them,"  said  Mr.  Coulter.  "Give  them  the  kind 
of  speech  you  made  on  the  Fourth  of  July."  Van 
Buren  did,  and  it  was  easier  for  him  to  proceed  on 
these  lines,  for  he  believed  with  his  heart  and  soul 
that  real  democracy  is  patriotism.  He  was  greeted 
with  cheers  by  many  of  the  audience  who  recalled 
his  Fourth  of  July  speech.  He  spoke  of  the  great 
cosmopolitan  population  of  New  York,  gathered 
from  all  quarters  of  the  globe,  speaking  all  tongues, 
a  modem  tower  of  babel,  united  only  in  their  desire 
for  liberty  and  for  freedom;  how  their  new  life 
opened  out  to  them  opportunities  and  hopes  which 
had  been  dead  within  their  hearts  and  the  hearts  of 
their  fathers,  hope  for  bettering  their  own  condi- 
tion, hope  for  their  children  and  their  children's 
children,  some  one  of  whom  at  some  future  meeting 
in  this  hall  might  be  endorsed  for  the  Presidency. 
To  them  democracy  and  freedom  were  synonyms. 
Democracy  meant  the  destruction  of  class  dis- 
tinctions, of  individual  and  corporate  privilege,  of 
the  officialism  and  paternalism  which  they  emigrated 
to  escape. 

"I  learned  my  democracy  at  my  father's  knee," 
said  Van  Buren,  in  closing.  "  It  was  taught  me  with 
my  prayers  and  my  alphabet.  It  means  to  me  all 
that  government  should  bring :  the  blessings  of  free- 
dom from  oppression,  liberty  of  thought,  speech,  and 
conscience,  the  great  truths  of  the  Declaration  of 
Independence  worked  out  in  practical  form."  Amid 
cheers  he  returned  to  his  seat  next  to  ^Ir.  Coulter, 
who  leaned  over  and  congratulated  him.     "That's 

144 


John    Van    Bttrcn,  Politician 

it,  enthuse  them.  Make  them  feel  that  the  United 
States  and  the  Democratic  party  are  the  same 
thing." 

Congressman  Forrest  followed  with  a  high-sound- 
ing attack  on  the  Republican  party  and  its  candi- 
dates. He  was  a  master  of  denunciation,  and  in 
this  speech  he  excelled.  His  torrents  of  eloquence 
could  be  heard  the  length  of  the  hall.  A  short 
speech  from  the  candidate  for  mayor  closed  the 
meeting.  He  assured  everybody  that  he  would 
do  what  they  wanted  honestly,  conservatively,  and 
conscientiously,  that  he  would  enforce  the  laws 
without  interfering  with  anybody,  and  that  great 
public  improvements  would  be  made  and  the  tax- 
rate  reduced. 

Van  Buren's  nomination  for  the  assembly  came  in 
due  course.  The  Tammany  district  convention  was 
a  miniature  of  the  city  convention.  A  committee 
from  the  convention  found  him  in  a  convenient 
hotel  and  brought  him  back  to  be  notified  of  his 
nomination.  He  thanked  them  and  said  he  would 
do  his  best  to  be  elected.  His  personal  campaign 
was  short  and  strenuous.  He  sent  out  circulars 
to  the  voters  signed  by  the  best  names  he  and 
Commissioner  Mahoney's  corporate  friends  could 
obtain,  and  followed  the  circulars  with  personal 
calls.  Many  of  his  college  and  club  friends  lived 
in  the  district,  and  he  looked  them  up  from  the 
registration  list.  Evenings  he  spoke  at  the  various 
halls  and  a  few  times  from  the  tail  end  of  a  truck. 
Commissioner  Mahoney  had  told  him  that  he  was  not 
expected  to  contribute  to  the  campaign  fund,  and 
his  total  expenses  scarcely  exceeded  the  five  hun- 

145 


John    Van    Btircn,   Politician 

dred  dollar  fee  he  had  charged  Kehoe  in  the  bread- 
knife  lawsuit. 

Election  night  Van  Buren  anxiously  sat  in  the 
Juniata  Club  awaiting  the  result.  He  had  spent 
the  day  at  the  polling-places  where  the  bulk  of  the 
vote  came  in  early  and  little  was  to  be  done.  He 
noted  that  the  number  of  men  who  wanted  money 
for  their  votes  was  a  small  fraction,  not  a  tenth  as 
many  in  proportion  as  at  Schenectady.  The  first 
few  district  returns  showed  that  the  Democratic 
candidate  for  President  had  carried  the  district 
and  that  the  Tammany  candidate  for  mayor  had 
lost  it  by  eighteen  hundred. 

"That's  not  bad,"  commented  Commissioner  Ma- 
honey.  "  It  means  Hascott  will  carry  the  city  by 
sixty  thousand.  Let  us  see  how  many  votes  Mont- 
gomery polls.  That  will  settle  it.  There  never 
was  any  doubt  of  Hascott' s  election." 

The  returns  as  they  came  in  were  chalked  on  a 
blackboard  divided  off  into  squares  for  the  candi- 
dates and  election  districts.  Montgomery's  vote 
fluctuated  greatly,  in  several  election  districts  ex- 
ceeding Thurton's.  By  the  time  the  fourth  district 
returns  came  in  the  commissioner  took  Van  Buren 's 
hand.  "You  win,"  he  said.  "That  Montgomery 
idea  saved  us." 

The  full  returns  were: 

Van  Buren,  3714; 
Thurton,  3129; 
Montgomery,  1862. 

Van  Buren  ran  four  hundred  and  eleven  ahead 
of  Hascott.    ."That's  a  very  good   showing,"  said 

146 


John    Van    Btiren,  Politician 

the  commissioner,  approvingly.  "Any  man  who 
has  four  hundred  friends  split  their  tickets  for 
him  in  a  Presidential  year  is  a  good  one."  Van 
Buren  had  not  thought  so.  Over  a  thousand  men 
had  assured  him  that  they  were  against  Tammany 
but  would  vote  for  him,  and  it  was  disappointing 
to  feel  that  had  not  Senator  Marlow's  suggestion 
been  followed  he  would  in  all  probability  have  been 
defeated.  His  vote  added  to  Montgomery's  was 
over  eight  hundred  more  than  the  Democratic  can- 
didate for  President  received,  and  Van  Buren  con- 
cluded that  Thurton  had  really  been  defeated  by  the 
enemies  he  had  made  and  that  Senator  Marlow's 
advice  not  to  run  too  often  was  as  sound  as  his 
suggestion  to  divide  the  enemy. 


XVII 

!FTER  his  election  to  the  assembly 
Van  Buren's  law  practice  took  a 
sudden  increase,  not  in  the  way  of 
litigation  but  consultation.  It  sur- 
prised him  how  many  people  were 
willing  to  pay  him  a  hundred  dollars  for  a  little  easy 
advice,  and  insisted  on  paying  promptly  for  it,  too. 
One  of  the  title  companies,  several  insurance  com- 
panies, a  gas  company,  and  different  business  asso- 
ciations sent  him  little  jobs  obviously  as  tokens  of 
good -will  and  a  desire  to  be  friendly.  None  of 
them  had  anything  to  do  with  proposed  legisla- 
tion, and  there  was  no  intimation  of  any  further 
service  to  be  rendered.  Van  Buren  consulted  Com- 
missioner Mahoney  about  it. 

"Take  them  all,"  he  advised.  "It's  easy  money 
and  it  walks  in  of  its  own  accord.  It's  very  com- 
plimentary. They  don't  size  you  up  for  a  legis- 
lative highbinder  or  they  would  turn  you  over  to 
their  Albany  man.  They  just  want  to  be  friendly, 
that's  all,  and  don't  want  you  to  go  out  of  your 
way  to  bother  them.  They  won't  mind  if  you  vote 
against  all  their  bills  —  they'll  get  votes  enough 
without  yours,  only  don't  be  too  ugly  with  them, 
and  be  content  to  mind  your  own  business  and  not 
bother  how  they  do  theirs." 

148 


John    Van    Btrrcnt    Politician 

*'  None  of  the  friends  I  met  with  Mr.  Coulter  have 
done  it,"  continued  Van  Buren. 

"They're  not  fifty  dollar  and  one  hundred  dollar 
people.  If  they  want  you  to  do  anything  they'll 
talk  it  over  with  me  first.  The  small  people  are 
legitimate  perquisites  for  the  assemblyman  himself. 
I  never  interfere  with  them." 

Van  Buren  went  home  to  spend  Thanksgiving. 
He  had  written  short  letters  regularly  to  his  mother, 
and  once  to  Amy  in  reply  to  somewhat  formal 
congratulations  from  her  on  his  nomination.  He 
wrote  telling  her  of  his  election.  He  had  thought  of 
writing  to  Miss  Marlow  on  some  pretext  or  other  to 
show  that  he  had  not  forgotten  her,  but  he  strongly 
surmised  that  she  knew  this  without  his  telling  her. 

On  reaching  home  his  mother  welcomed  him  as 
she  had  done  in  his  boyhood  days  on  his  return  from 
school.  They  spent  the  evening  together  talking 
over  the  happenings  since  his  last  visit.  ]\Irs.  Van 
Buren  asked  whether  he  would  spend  the  winter 
in  Albany  or  at  home,  and  go  over  to  the  assembly 
from  day  to  day. 

"I  think  I'd  better  live  in  Albany,"  Van  Buren 
replied.  "  I  would  not  get  the  same  experience 
going  over  only  for  the  daily  sessions.  It  is  the 
difference  between  a  day  scholar  and  a  boarder  at 
school.  I  recollect  even  at  college  we  called  the 
fellows  who  lived  at  home  day  scholars,  and  I  think 
I  will  go  to  the  Delavan  and  take  a  room  there." 

One  of  the  first  things  he  did  on  his  return  to  New 
York  was  to  call  on  his  friend  Judge  Murphy.  It 
was  some  time  since  he  had  been  in  the  judge's 
house,  and  they  were  all  glad  to  see  him.     He  took 

149 


John    Van    Btjrcn,  Politician 

supper  with  the  family,  and  after  supper  sat  with 
the  judge  in  his  Httle  office  and  smoked. 

The  judge  was  troubled.  His  primaries  had  been 
held  satisfactorily,  as  usual,  and  a  new  district  com- 
mittee chosen,  all  of  whom  he  relied  upon  as  old 
friends ;  but  he  had  heard  disturbing  rumors — that 
he  was  to  be  turned  down  by  Mr.  Coulter.  His  dis- 
trict had  given  its  usual  majority  in  the  thousands 
at  the  fall  election,  and  apparently  he  was  secure 
in  his  leadership,  but  his  political  senses  gave  him 
premonition  of  his  possible  overthrow.  The  major- 
ity of  his  committee  were  office-holders  or  interested 
in  city  contracts  and  privileges.  With  Mr.  Coulter 
and  the  police  against  him  he  would  have  nothing  to 
rely  upon  except  friendship  and  money.  He  might 
hold  his  committee  with  money  once,  but  that  was 
a  way  that  could  not  last.  He  told  Van  Buren  his 
fears. 

"  The  boss  has  been  chilly  to  me  lately.  He  gives 
me  the  cold  eye  when  I  turn  up  at  the  club.  It 
looks  as  though  he  doesn't  want  my  kind  any  more. 
I'm  better  with  the  boys  here  than  in  theatre 
clothes  up  on  the  avenue.  He's  dropping  the  old- 
timers  one  by  one,  and  I'm  one  of  the  last.  The 
day  of  the  old-time  district  leader  is  over.  The 
boss  wants  a  lot  of  foremen  and  chief  clerks  on  the 
job,  and  he's  running  it  as  a  business  enterprise." 

"Why  don't  you  have  a  frank  talk  with  him  and 
find  out  where  you  stand?" 

"What's  the  good?  I  told  him  I'd  heard  talk  of 
trouble,  and  he  says  he  don't  interfere,  that  it's  for 
the  district  to  settle  such  matters.  I  can  settle  this 
district  fast  enough,  but  I  can't  fight  the  machine 

150 


John    Van    Buren,  Politician 

and  the  police  in  a  neighborhood  like  this.  It  looks 
to  me  like  I'm  up  against  it." 

His  term  of  office  had  several  years  to  run,  and 
he  was  in  no  fear  of  losing  that  for  the  present ;  but 
the  idea  that  one  of  his  lieutenants  should  be  raised 
to  leadership  over  him  harrowed  his  soul  and  meant 
to  him  the  greatest  humiliation  of  his  life. 

The  committee  was  composed  of  thirty-two  mem- 
bers, of  whom  seventeen  constituted  a  quorum. 
All  the  members  were  ostensibly  devoted  to  Judge 
Murphy.  But  almost  invariably  as  soon  as  poli- 
ticians become  hardened  and  their  finer  sensibilities 
blunted  the  spirit  of  supreme  selfishness  becomes 
dominant. 

The  management  of  the  deposition  of  the  judge 
had  been  put  in  the  hands  of  Jimmie  Breck,  a  prison 
lawyer,  who  was  to  be  the  judge's  successor.  He 
first  allied  to  himself  the  proprietor  of  a  Chatham 
Square  saloon  known  as  The  Bludgeon  and  Tom 
Cleary,  the  police  captain's  nephew.  By  promises 
of  office  and  other  considerations  they  succeeded 
in  inducing  fourteen  members,  enough  with  them- 
selves to  constitute  a  majority,  to  promise  to  vote 
for  the  judge's  dethronement. 

At  the  next  monthly  meeting  of  the  general  dis- 
trict committee  the  members  were  prompt  in  at- 
tendance. Judge  Murphy  with  his  adherents  ranged 
themselves  on  one  side  of  the  room;  the  conspira- 
tors occupied  the  opposite  side.  Among  the  lat- 
ter was  the  alderman,  blear  -  eyed  and  bloated, 
and  barely  able  to  speak  in  monosyllables  when 
spoken  to.  Some  of  the  judge's  friends  advised  him 
to  resign  rather  than  submit  to  the  humiliation  of 


John    Van    Btircnt   Politician 

being  expelled,  but  he  would  not  listen  to  them. 
i\lthough  he  saw  it  was  a  forlorn  hope  he  declared 
he  would  fight  it  out  to  the  end. 

When  the  time  came  to  call  the  committee  to 
order,  Judge  Murphy  calmly  took  his  custom.ary 
place  as  the  presiding  officer  and  rapped  attention. 

**The  first  order  of  business,  gentlemen,"  began 
the  judge,  following  the  preliminary  routine,  "is 
to  hear  the  reading  of  the  minutes  of  the  last  meet- 
ing." 

"D — n  the  order  of  business!"  shouted  Breck. 

''That's  right!"  came  from  a  dozen  throats. 

"There's  only  one  piece  of  business  on  hand  to- 
night," continued  Breck,  raising  his  voice  to  a  high 
pitch  to  drown  the  prevailing  noise  and  confusion. 
"I  move  Judge  Murphy  be  removed  from  the  office 
of  chairman." 

"Second  the  motion,"  loudly  exclaimed  several 
simultaneously. 

"All  in  favor  of  the  motion,"  continued  Breck, 
"  say  '  aye  ' ;  contrary-minded,  '  no.' " 

In  a  minute  the  judge  was  on  his  feet,  calm  and 
undisturbed.  His  dignified  attitude  and  that  famil- 
iar ruby  face  and  irresistible  smile  won  a  hearing 
from  his  turbulent  opponents. 

"My  friends,"  he  commenced,  "I  know  you  have 
a  majority  sufficient  to  remove  me.  I  do  not  ask 
any  favors  of  you,  only  to  carry  out  your  orders 
from  the  boss  in  an  orderly  way.  We  have  all  been 
true  friends  for  the  last  ten  years,  and  this  is  the 
first  break,"  and  with  tears  glistening  in  his  eyes 
he  added,  "and  if  the  orders  of  the  boss  must 
separate  us  now,   let  us  still  continue  outside  of 

152 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

politics  to  keep  up  the  old  friendship  and  good 
times." 

There  were  tears  in  the  eyes  of  many  of  his  old 
cronies  in  the  enemy's  ranks  as  the  judge  was 
speaking. 

''Well,  Mr.  Breck,"  said  the  judge,  gently,  seeing 
a  determination  on  the  part  of  the  majority  to  cut 
short  his  speech,  "I  know  what  your  reward  is  for 
turning  out  your  friend  and  leader.  Every  dollar 
you  have  in  the  world  you  owe  to  me.  Now  take 
your  vote,  but  I  want  each  member  to  vote  as  his 
name  is  called,  as  I  wish  to  know  who  are  my 
friends  and  who  are  my  enemies." 

The  judge  had  before  him  a  printed  list  of  the 
members.  Perfect  stillness  reigned  in  the  hall  as 
the  vote  was  called.  The  call  finished,  the  judge 
announced  amid  silence  the  result. 

''There  have  been  thirty-two  votes  cast,"  said 
the  judge.  "  Of  these,  seventeen  are  in  favor  of  the 
motion  to  remove  me  from  the  office  of  chairman 
and  fifteen  are  opposed  to  the  motion.  The  motion 
is  carried."  With  lowered  head  he  mockingly  add- 
ed, "I  thank  you,  gentlemen." 

Folding  his  papers  Judge  Murphy  proudly  strode 
towards  the  door. 


t 


XVIII 

'N  the  fight  to  overthrow  Judge 
Alurphy  Assemblyman  Keegan  voted 
with  the  judge.  Mr.  Coulter  had  sent 
for  him  and  asked  him  to  make  the 
fight  and  take  the  leadership,  but  he 
had  declined  the  offer.  Not  that  he  was  over- 
friendly  to  the  judge,  but  his  sympathy  was  not 
with  the  men  who  were  trying  to  turn  down  the 
judge  and  their  methods  were  not  to  his  liking. 
The  proper  course  would  have  been  to  make  an  open 
fight  before  the  people  at  the  primaries,  and  not  to 
seek  the  judge's  downfall  by  buying  his  committee 
away  from  him.  Keegan  had  aspirations  some 
day  to  be  leader  of  the  district  himself,  but  his 
methods  were  of  a  different  kind,  and  the  treachery 
fostered  against  the  judge  he  foresaw  might  be 
turned  against  himself  some  day. 

Keegan  had  risen  to  be  assemblyman  by  fighting 
his  way.  In  a  neighborhood  where  every  tenement 
house  supported  a  saloon  and  the  saloon-keeper 
and  the  undertaker  were  the  social  leaders  as  well 
as  the  most  lucrative  occupations,  Keegan  never 
drank  or  smoked.  As  a  boy  he  worked  in  one  of 
the  second-hand  clothing  stores  that  line  Baxter 
Street,  one  of  the  few  Irish  boys  so  employed.  His 
schooling  ceased  early,  but  not  earlier  than  was  the 

154 


John    Van    Barcnt   Politician 

custom  in  those  days,  when  Five  Points  was  really 
a  tough  place  day  and  night,  when  the  front  and 
rear  tenements  on  Mulberry  Street  had  not  been 
razed  to  make  a  park,  and  when  Paradise  Park  was 
the  only  spot  of  green  except  on  St.  Patrick's  day. 
In  those  days  the  fourth  and  sixth  wards  were 
Irish,  except  for  the  few  Hebrews  in  the  clothing 
business  on  Baxter  Street  and  the  Chinamen  who 
had  settled  in  Doyers  and  Pell,  those  old  colonial 
byways. 

Working  in  a  Baxter  Street  store  was  a  vigorous 
occupation  from  morning  till  night.  No  sailor  or 
other  wayfaring  man  had  any  business  in  Baxter 
Street  unless  he  desired  to  change  his  clothing,  and 
whether  he  thought  he  wanted  to  buy  or  not  was 
no  concern  of  the  barkers  and  pullers-in  who  lined 
the  sidewalk.  They  insisted  on  the  passer-by  com- 
ing in  and  exchanging  his  present  apparel  and 
what  money  was  in  the  pockets  of  it  for  the  toggery 
of  which  they  kept  an  abundance.  If  he  resisted, 
it  made  no  difference  in  the  end.  His  clothes  were 
changed  by  force  and  he  was  sent  away  with  what- 
ever had  been  put  on  his  back,  while  the  coat  and 
trousers  he  had  when  he  appeared  were  added  to  the 
stock-in-trade.  While  the  nativity  of  the  pro- 
prietors of  these  Baxter  Street  clothing  stores  was 
consonant  with  the  bargaining  of  their  business,  the 
muscular  department  was  managed  by  their  Irish 
assistants. 

In  this  occupation  Keegan  was  brought  up,  be- 
ginning as  a  boy  assistant  and  developing  into  a 
successful  salesman.  He  rarely  had  to  use  force. 
There  was  a  subtle,  persuasive  quality  in  his  voice 

155 


John    Van    Btircn,  Politician 

and  a  winsome  look  in  his  eyes  that  increased  the 
business  of  the  Particular  Original  Cohen  for  whom 
he  worked  and  that  enlarged  the  sales  on  which  young 
Keegan  received  a  percentage,  which  percentage  he 
took  home  to  his  mother  who  saved  it.  His  father 
was  dead,  and  the  other  children,  of  whom  there  w^ere 
many,  had  gone  out  for  themselves,  leaving  young 
Michael  alone  with  his  mother  in  the  three  rooms  of 
the  tenement  which  was  their  home.  When  the  sav- 
ings amounted  in  all  to  six  hundred  dollars,  which 
took  several  years,  Mrs.  Keegan  drew  the  money  from 
the  savings-bank  and  young  ^Michael  blossomed  out  as 
the  proprietor  of  a  saloon  on  Park  Street.  The  former 
proprietor  consumed  too  much  of  his  own  goods,  and 
the  brewery  which  owned  the  mortgage  transferred 
the  equity  to  Keegan  for  five  hundred  dollars.  The 
other  hundred  was  working  capital  and  subsistence 
money.  The  Keegan  saloon — it  was  before  they 
were  called  cafes  in  Five  Points  —  prospered  from 
the  beginning.  The  Keegan  family  connection  was 
large  and  by  marriage  it  had  become  larger,  num- 
bering over  two  hundred  voters,  enough  in  itself  to 
make  a  saloon  prosperous.  The  Whoo-Whoo  gang 
numbered  some  of  the  Keegans  among  its  members, 
and  through  their  influence  the  Whoo-Whoo  head- 
quarters were  informally  established  in  the  back 
room,  where  the  leading  Whoo-Whoos  could  be 
found  late  in  the  afternoon  and  early  in  the  evening 
before  their  working  hours  began.  Michael  Keegan 
himself  kept  clear  of  the  Whoo-Whoos,  who  had  a 
habit  of  collecting  pocket  -  books,  watches,  and 
jewelry  from  men  who  strayed  into  the  Five  Points 
neighborhood  late  at  night  when  they  had  no  busi- 

156 


John    Van    Barent    Politician 

ness  there  and  should  have  been  safer  at  home  asleep 
with  their  families.  The  name  of  Whoo-Whoo  came 
from  the  cry  with  which  these  watch-collectors  used 
to  warn  one  another  of  the  possible  interruption  of 
their  labors  by  the  police  or  other  interfering  in- 
dividuals. It  may  be  said,  however,  that  the  in- 
terruptions by  the  police  were  not  frequent,  and 
usually  were  caused  by  some  blundering  novice  or 
through  some  policeman's  dissatisfaction  with  his 
share  of  the  profits  of  this  established  nocturnal 
industry. 

Young  Michael  Keegan's  first  ambition  was  to  be 
an  undertaker.  Next  to  the  alderman,  who  was,  of 
course,  second  to  that  far-off  political  divinity  the 
judge  of  the  Tombs  Police  Court,  was  the  under- 
taker, ranking  with  the  assemblyman  and  ahead 
of  the  most  prosperous  saloon-keepers.  To  be  an 
undertaker  required  capital,  the  ownership  of  a 
pair  of  black  horses  and  a  hearse,  the  fitting  up  of  a 
coffin  emiporium  with  elaborate  and  costly  caskets 
draped  in  black  broadcloth  and  the  handles  and 
trimmings  of  real  silver.  Funerals  were  the  great- 
est festive  occasions  of  the  neighborhood,  nights  of 
mourning  followed  by  a  day  of  glorious  display, 
making  up  for  years  of  hardship  and  the  con- 
solation for  the  years  of  debt-paying.  The  under- 
taker's bill  was  the  one  debt  of  honor.  Saloon 
scores  were  paid  or  not  as  convenience  required; 
grocers',  butchers'  and  clothing  bills  were  uncom- 
mon, for  such  creditors  were  regarded  as  proper 
spoil;  the  landlord  was  paid  only  under  compulsion, 
but  the  undertaker's  bill  was  cheerfully  paid  in  full 
if  it  took  years  of  privation  to  do  it.     Otherwise  the 

157 


John    Van    Barcn^   Politician 

undertakers  would  have  restricted  the  funeral  dis- 
play to  cash  in  hand,  and  the  greatest  ambition  of 
the  old  Irish  settlers  would  have  been  disappoint- 
ed. This  financial  code  made  the  business  of  under- 
taker mxost  profitable,  but  it  required  large  capital, 
and  it  was  several  years  before  the  profits  of  Keegan's 
Park  Street  saloon  permitted  the  opening  of  the 
Keegan  Undertaking  and  Funeral  Emporium  on 
Mulberry  Street. 

From  the  start  the  Keegan  undertaking  busi- 
ness was  a  success.  Without  additional  charge  the 
Keegan  funeral  processions  would  drive  up  and 
down  and  around  the  district  that  all  the  sick  people 
and  the  bartenders  and  the  store-keepers  could  see 
the  size  of  the  procession  and  count  the  carriages, 
while  the  former  custom  had  been  for  the  undertaker 
to  drive  directly  to  the  ferry  unless  an  additional 
payment  was  made.  Then  the  Keegan  floral  dis- 
plays surpassed  anything  ever  known  before,  and 
by  adding  a  large  ice-box  to  his  establishment  he 
was  able  to  use  the  same  flowers  over  and  over  again, 
both  at  additional  profit  to  himself  and  at  a  saving  to 
his  customers.  Then  he  arranged  with  the  Chatham 
Square  hackmen  to  drive  in  a  procession  through 
the  district  and  return  to  their  stands  at  a  quarter 
of  the  price  they  charged  to  go  the  whole  way  to 
the  cemetery.  By  these  progressive  ideas  even  the 
poor  inhabitant  of  Five  Points  could  afford  a  funeral 
with  five  open  barouches  full  of  flowers  and  at  least 
fifty  hacks,  something  that  only  the  richest  saloon- 
keepers had  been  able  to  have  before. 

Naturally  such  success  brought  envy  as  well  as 
riches.     Keegan's  saloon  business  expanded  until  he 

158 


John    Van    Baren,    Politician 

had  to  install  two  cousins  as  bartenders  to  look  after 
the  Park  Street  saloon.  He  arranged  his  working 
hours  by  spending  his  days  at  the  Mulberry  Street 
emporium  and  his  nights  at  his  Park  Street  saloon. 
Late  one  night,  when  the  front  bar-room  was  dark- 
ened to  comply  with  the  one  o'clock  closing  law 
and  the  back  room  was  crowded  with  customers,  a 
bullet  came  in  through  the  window  and  hit  Jerry 
Keegan,  who  was  behind  the  bar.  Jerry  was 
known  as  Four  -  eyed  Keegan  from  his  wearing 
spectacles.  In  build  and  general  appearance,  es- 
pecially in  a  dim  light,  he  might  be  taken  for 
Michael. 

Jerry  was  dying  on  a  bench  in  the  back  room 
when  the  police  and  the  reporters  came.  The 
priest  was  with  him,  and  his  wife  and  his  mother 
and  his  children  were  in  the  bar-room  sobbing  their 
farewells.  It  was  almost  morning,  light  enough  to 
see  in  the  bar-room  without  the  gas-jets,  which  were 
still  burning.  Outside  a  crowd  had  gathered.  The 
doctor  had  gone,  and  there  was  no  one  v/ith  Jerry 
except  the  priest  and  the  women  and  children  of 
his  family.  By  the  front  door  stood  Michael,  his  face 
calm  and  set.  Outside  was  the  crowd,  with  other 
Keegans  here  and  there. 

As  the  police  and  the  police  reporters  bustled  up 
Michael  waved  them  away,  "It's  an  accident,"  he 
placidly  said.  "Jerry  was  cleaning  up  and  he  hap- 
pened to  knock  the  revolver  off  the  shelf  back  of  the 
bar.  It  fell  on  the  floor  and  went  off.  Youse  had 
all  better  go  home." 

One  of  the  reporters,  looking  around,  saw  the 
bullet-hole  in  the  plate-glass. 

159 


John    Van    Bttrcnt   Politician 

"The  bullet  seems  to  have  gone  through  here?" 
he  inquired. 

"That  hole  was  there  when  I  bought  the  place," 
said  Keegan. 

The  police  investigated  and  learned  nothing,  the 
reporters  inquired  and  found  nothing  to  print.  The 
funeral  was  the  next  Sunday,  and  nothing  like  it 
had  ever  been  seen  before.  There  were  two  hun- 
dred and  sixty-nine  carriages  and  twelve  barouches 
of  flowers,  and  the  procession  drove  over  every 
street  in  the  ward.  j\Iichael  Keegan  rode  in  the 
first  carriage  with  the  priest. 

A  few  nights  after  the  funeral  one  Thomas 
Feeney  was  found  near  the  Park  Street  saloon  lying 
under  a  truck  with  his  skull  smashed  in.  Again  the 
police  and  the  police  reporters  gathered.  The 
Keegan  saloon  was  closed,  and  leaning  against  the 
front  door  was  Michael  Keegan  gazing  over  the 
crowd.  One  of  the  reporters  who  had  called  the 
night  of  Jerry's  accident  stepped  up  and  asked 
Keegan  what  had  happened. 

"  That  Feeney  was  blink-eyed  and  he  couldn't  see 
well  nights,"  Keegan  again  calmly  explained.  "He 
was  walkin'  along  the  street  and  he  didn't  see  the 
truck,  and  he  butted  his  head  into  the  wheel  and 
cracked  his  nut.  People  like  him  should  know  bet- 
ter than  to  be  out  alone  after  dark." 

The  police  and  the  police  reporters  again  inves- 
tigated, and  learned  nothing  except  that  if  the 
accident  happened  as  Keegan  had  related  Feeney 
must  have  been  walking  backward.  Feeney  was 
buried  by  another  undertaker,  and  the  funeral  did 
not  approach  in  size  and  magnificence  the  obsequies 

i6o 


John    Van    Barent   Politician 

of  Four -eyed  Keegan,  which  remains  a  record  to 
this  day. 

A  few  weeks  after  the  Feeney  funeral  Keegan 
was  walking  one  afternoon  on  Mulberry  Street.  As 
he  passed  the  big  tenement  known  as  The  Barracks 
a  brick  dropped  down  from  the  air  and  struck  him 
a  glancing  blow  on  the  head.  The  doctor  sewed  a 
five-inch  tear  in  his  scalp,  and  he  was  laid  up  for  a 
fortnight.  The  reporter  who  had  reported  the  Four- 
eyed  Keegan  and  the  Feeney  mishaps  looked  up 
Keegan  and  asked  him  how  this  last  accident  hap- 
pened. 

''  It  was  a  windy  day,"  Keegan  again  calmly  ex- 
plained. ''  You  recollect  how  the  wind  was  blowing. 
Them  barracks  is  old  and  coming  apart,  and  the 
wind  blew  that  brick  off  the  chimbly." 

This  brick  had  something  to  do  with  Keegan's 
candidacy  for  the  assembly.  He  had  always  been 
in  politics.  No  one  of  his  nationality  in  that  neigh- 
borhood was  ever  out  of  politics.  When  he  worked 
for  the  Original  Cohen  he  learned  that  political 
activity  was  necessary  in  order  to  be  kept  harmless 
from  the  rows  which  were  of  daily  occurrence.  In 
the  saloon  business  it  was  still  more  necessary  to 
be  friendly  with  the  political  powers  so  that  his 
most  profitable  business  hours  would  not  be  inter- 
fered with.  One  of  the  duties  of  Five  Points  saloon- 
keepers was  to  go  bail  for  their  steady  customers 
when  arrested  and  to  use  reasonable  means  to  pre- 
vent any  convictions.  Such  bail  was  rarely  lost.  It 
was  a  point  of  honor,  like  paying  the  undertaker. 
Sometimes  it  might  be  necessary  for  the  defendant 
to  jump  his  bail,  but  his  family  and  his  gang  always 

i6i 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

reimbursed  the  bail-giving  saloon-keeper  whatever 
expense  he  might  be  forced  to  stand  in  the  rare  in- 
stances where  the  bail  bond  was  proceeded  on. 

These  necessities  of  daily  life  made  poHtics  part 
of  Keegan's  business.  He  was  the  captain  of  his 
election  district  before  he  was  twenty-one.  There 
was  no  age  limit  on  political  activity  around  Five 
Points,  and  who  was  to  dispute  the  word  of  a  regis- 
tered voter  about  his  own  age?  Keegan,  however, 
always  personally  obeyed  the  law  except  the  ex- 
cise law,  and  no  one  thought  of  obeying  that.  It 
was  not  thought  of  as  were  the  other  laws,  the  penal 
code  and  the  like,  but  simply  as  strengthening  the 
power  of  the  district  leader  and  adding  to  the  rev- 
enues of  the  police  captain. 

In  a  very  few  years  Keegan  made  his  election 
district  the  banner  district.  Everybody  in  it  was 
Keegan's  friend,  or  if  he  was  not  he  soon  found  it  wise 
to  move.  The  Keegans  were  clannish,  and  a  goodly 
fraction  of  the  two  hundred  Keegan  voters  settled 
in  the  district  of  which  Michael  was  captain.  His 
cousin  John  Keegan,  the  policeman,  patrolled  Park 
Street;  his  cousin  Jimmy  Keegan,  the  fireman,  was 
assigned  to  the  nearest  engine-house;  his  cousin 
Patrick  Keegan,  who  wrote  the  best  hand  in  the 
family,  was  the  street  -  cleaning  inspector  for  Five 
Points;  his  uncle  Keegan,  was  made  keeper  of  Para- 
dise Park ;  the  widow  of  Four-eyed  Keegan  was  fore- 
lady  of  the  prison  court  floor -scrubbers,  and  still 
other  Keegans  were  street-car  drivers  and  on  the  big 
pipes,  all  through  Michael  and  the  banner  district. 

Such  prosperity  could  not  go  unruffled,  and  the 
brick  incident  brought  home  to  Michael  Keegan  the 

162 


John    Van    Btircnt   Politician 

necessity  of  a  vindication  over  the  people  who  had 
been  saying  unkind  things  about  him,  and  they  were 
many.  There  was  Mangan,  who  kept  a  saloon  on 
Centre  Street,  which  had  dropped  off  in  receipts 
through  the  proximity  of  Keegan's  more  popular 
place ;  Timothy  Reilly,  who  was  the  most  prosperous 
undertaker  until  Keegan  went  into  the  business ;  Big 
Bolivar,  whose  district  had  hitherto  had  the  ban- 
ner; Assemblyman  Meegan,  who  was  the  youthful 
protege  of  Big  Bolivar;  and  not  least,  the  Feegan 
who  kept  the  saloon  next  the  big  Barracks.  The 
alderman  and  Judge  Murphy  kept  themselves  aloof 
from  these  differences,  as  behooved  men  with  larger 
interests  in  a  higher  sphere.  They  always  stood 
ready  to  side  with  and  reward  the  winner  after  his 
victory. 

When  Keegan  was  around  again  and  had  recover- 
ed from  the  wind-blown  brick,  he  concluded  to  as- 
sert himself,  and  announced  his  candidacy  for  the 
assembly  nomination.  Usually  there  w^ere  three 
or  four  candidates  for  the  assembly  besides  the 
Republican,  who  did  not  count,  and  ran  only  as  a 
matter  of  form  to  fill  out  the  ticket.  Meegan  was 
a  candidate  for  re-election,  and  as  soon  as  Keegan's 
candidacy  was  known,  Mangan,  Reilly,  and  Feegan 
announced  that  they  were  candidates,  and  that  be- 
fore election  they  would  combine  on  the  strongest 
of  their  number  to  down  Keegan.  McCarthy,  the 
junk  man,  was  at  that  time  the  sage  of  Five  Points, 
and  a  valued  friend  and  counsellor  to  the  Keegan 
family.  To  him  Keegan  went  for  advice  and  stated 
the  situation. 

"Michael,  me  boy,"  said  sage  McCarthy,  *'ene- 
163 


John    Van    Buren,   Politician 

mies  is  a  sign  of  prominence.  Them  that  has  noth- 
ing else  has  no  enemies.  It's  for  you  to  do  your 
duty." 

From  McCarthy's  junk-shop  Keegan  went  to 
the  law -office  near  the  city  prison,  where  Assem- 
blyman Cornelius  Meegan  had  a  desk  and  a  copy 
of  the  penal  code.     Assemblyman  Meegan  was  in. 

"I  hear  you've  been  speakin'  ill  of  me,"  stated 
Keegan. 

''  I've  been  sayin'  nothin'  what's  not  true,"  replied 
the  assemblyman. 

"  Ye'll  swallow  yer  words,"  retorted  Keegan. 

With*  that  he  put  one  arm  around  the  assembly- 
man, binding  his  arms,  and  by  prodding  the  assem- 
blyman's throat  with  an  uptilted  thumb,  forced  his 
head  back  and  his  mouth  open.  With  the  other 
hand  Keegan  reached  the  inkstand  from  the  desk 
and  poured  its  contents  into  the  assemblyman's 
gasping  mouth.  The  spluttering  and  choking  made 
a  general  splatter. 

"This  is  a  warning  to  you,"  continued  Keegan, 
solemnly.  "The  next  time  you'll  eat  the  ink- 
stand." 

From  the  assemblyman's  law-office  Keegan  went 
to  Reilly's  undertakery.  Reilly  was  about  to  mount 
the  hearse  and  go  to  a  funeral. 

"Come  down  from  there,"  commanded  Keegan. 

"You  blank,  blank,  blank,"  retorted  Reilly. 

With  that  Keegan  jumped  up  on  the  wheel  of  the 
hearse  and  grabbed  Reilly  by  the  collar  and  pulled 
him  down  to  the  sidewalk.  Reilly  had  on  his 
funeral  silk  hat,  black  frock-coat,  and  white  tie. 

"Respect  for  the  dead  restrains  me,"  remarked 
164 


John    Van    Btffcnt   Politician 

Keegan.  'Til  content  meself  with  hurling  your 
slanders  in  your  face." 

With  that  he  slapped  him  upon  the  mouth. 

"  Now  go  about  your  business  and  keep  your 
mouth  shut  about  your  betters." 

A  large  audience  looked  on  approvingly  at  this 
public  vindication.  They  knew  all  the  facts  and 
regarded  this  as  an  auspicious  opening  of  Keegan's 
political  campaign. 

Followed  at  a  respectful  distance  by  admiring 
friends,  Keegan  proceeded  to  Mangan's  saloon.  The 
proprietor  was  out,  but  his  brother  Jimmy  was 
behind  the  bar.  Jimmy  reached  for  the  bar  re- 
volver. 

"You  would,  would  you!"  exclaimed  Keegan, 
reproachfully,  at  this  breach  of  Five  Points  etiquette, 
and  he  reached  over  the  bar  and  catching  Jimmy 
Mangan  by  the  collar  lifted  him  over.  "Where's 
your  brother?"  inquired  Keegan,  as  with  one  hand 
he  turned  Jimmy  upside  down  and  stood  his  head  in 
the  cuspidor,  a  feat  of  strength  admired  to  this  day. 
Reports  from  the  crowd  in  the  street  indicated  the 
speedy  arrival  of  the  brother,  and  Keegan  went  out 
to  meet  him.  Mangan  had  been  a  local  prize- 
fighter, and  the  saloon  represented  his  share  of  many 
purses.  He  had  heard  of  Keegan's  active  canvass 
and  hastened  to  meet  him.  On  his  near  approach 
Keegan  suddenly  lowered  his  head  and  butted 
Mangan  in  the  abdomen.  Mangan  lay  down  in 
the  gutter.  A  visit  to  Feegan's  saloon,  next  the 
big  Barracks,  and  Feegan's  demolition  followed 
promptly. 

Keegan  returned  to  the  junk-shop  exhausted  with 

i6s 


John    Van    "Buretif   Politician 

his  hard  labors  and  told  Sage  McCarthy  his  prog- 
ress towards  vindication. 

"Michael,  me  boy,"  commended  the  sage,  "you 
seen  your  duty  and  you  done  it.     You  done  noble." 

There  remained  only  Big  Bolivar  to  be  contended 
with,  and  he  was  the  greatest  of  all.  Through 
emissaries  it  was  arranged  that  Bolivar  and  Keegan 
should  meet  that  evening  in  a  vacant  lot  in  China- 
town and  decide  the  supremacy  of  the  district.  The 
battle  was  fought  by  rounds  in  the  presence  of  all  the 
leading  politicians,  the  judge  and  the  alderman  alone 
being  absent,  such  a  proceeding  being  beneath  their 
dignity. 

Bolivar  lay  on  the  ground  unconscious  before 
the  eleventh  round  was  over.  He  was  picked  up 
and  revived. 

"You're  a  good  one,"  he  said  to  Keegan,  when 
Keegan  shook  him  by  the  hand  to  show  that  enmity 
was  over.     **  Your  nomination  will  be  unanimous. 

And  since  that  day,  as  Keegan  often  proudly  says, 
*' There's  not  been  man,  woman,  nor  child  to  speak 
ill  of  me  in  the  district." 

Judge  Murphy  was  overthrown  between  election 
day  and  the  opening  of  the  legislature,  when  Keegan 
took  his  seat.  Keegan  had  tried  to  keep  aloof  from 
the  conflict,  but  at  the  meeting  of  the  com^mittee  he 
voted  with  the  minority  and  against  the  judge's 
deposition.  His  business  had  increased  and  the 
savings  went  into  additional  saloons,  until  he  now 
had  three,  besides  the  undertaking  emporium.  His 
mother  had  shared  in  his  prosperity,  and  the  family 
now  occupied  the  whole  floor  over  the  saloon,  where 
a  niece  helped  with  the  housekeeping. 

i66 


John    Van    Btirent   Politician 

Matters  in  the  legislature  went  pleasantly  with 
Keegan,  due  greatly  to  his  good-nature  and  the  care 
with  which  he  kept  his  word,  for  he  prided  himself 
on  these  things:  that  he  never  tasted  intoxicating 
hquor  and  that  he  never  broke  a  promise  or  deserted 
a  friend. 

All  went  well  until  one  day  a  bill  with  Mr.  Coul- 
ter's endorsement  was  introduced  giving  the  chief  of 
police  power  to  close  any  saloon,  and  giving  him  the 
right  to  lock  up  in  the  station-house  for  three  days 
without  a  hearing  or  a  trial  any  man  whose  picture 
was  in  the  rogues'  gallery.  The  bill  was  preceded 
by  an  interview  printed  in  all  the  New  York  papers, 
where  the  chief  of  police  said  that  such  a  law  would 
enable  him  to  drive  all  criminals  from  New  York, 
and  that  the  only  crimes  would  be  committed  by 
new  men,  who,  as  soon  as  detected,  would  have  their 
pictures  put  in  the  rogues'  gallery,  and  then  be 
arrested  again  and  again  under  the  three -day  pro- 
vision. The  chief  explained  that  such  a  law  was 
necessary,  for  it  was  often  difficult  if  not  impossible 
to  secure  sufficient  evidence  to  convict  many 
criminals  where  there  was  no  question  that  the 
crime  had  been  committed  and  there  was  a  moral 
certainty  who  the  criminal  was. 

T.  Percy  Horsford  introduced  the  bill,  and  in  the 
name  of  "the  better  element  of  New  York  "  asked 
for  its  immediate  passage.  This  required  unanimous 
consent.  There  was  general  surprise  when  Keegan, 
who  regularly  voted  for  everything  and  objected  to 
nothing,  said,  "I  object." 

That  night,  at  the  stroke  of  one  o'clock,  head- 
quarters detectives  descended  upon  Keegan's  three 

167 


John    Van    Btircnt    Politician 

saloons,  all  of  which  were  openly  doing  business,  the 
same  as  every  other  saloon  in  the  neighborhood,  and 
arrested  the  bartenders.  Previously  the  chief  had 
given  out  an  interview  which  appeared  in  every 
morning  newspaper. 

The  chief  said:  "The  bill  introduced  by  Mr. 
Horsford  was  drawn  by  me  and  approved  by  the 
city  authorities.  Its  object  is  to  drive  away 
habitual  criminals  and  to  close  the  saloons  which 
they  haunt.  It  is,  I  believe,  desired  by  nine-tenths 
of  the  people.  I  am  not  surprised  at  Assemblyman 
Keegan's  opposition,  but  I  did  not  think,  in  view  of 
his  record  and  the  facts,  that  his  opposition  would  be 
open.  Assemblyman  Keegan  is  the  backer  of  the 
Whoo-Whoo  gang.  Their  headquarters  are  his  sa- 
loon on  Park  Street.  Mike  the  Bite,  Choker  Bill, 
Paddy  Gurck,  the  well-known  pickpocket,  Shangley 
the  burglar,  Reddy  McGuire,  Obe  Driscoll,  and  others 
of  that  kidney  meet  nightly  in  the  back  room  of 
Assemblyman  Keegan's  saloon  to  plan  their  dep- 
redations on  society.  They  have  all  served  terms 
in  prison,  and  if  they  had  their  deserts  they  would  be 
in  Sing  Sing  now.  When  three  well-known  con- 
stituents of  Assemblyman  Keegan  escaped  from 
Sing  Sing  last  summer  through  the  connivance  of  a 
guard,  the  money  to  bribe  the  guard  was,  it  was  gen- 
erally believed,  handled  by  Assemblyman  Keegan. 
While  he  never  participates  in  their  crimes  in  per- 
son, he  is  always  ready  to  go  their  bail,  provide 
counsel  for  them,  and  work  the  underground  wires 
to  defeat  justice  and  secure  their  release.  I  re- 
gard such  a  man  as  more  dangerous  than  the  crim- 
inals themselves.     It  is  not  part  of  my  official  duty 

i68 


John    Van    B«rent    Politician 

to  warn  the  legislature  against  one  of  its  members, 
but  by  his  open  defence  of  the  criminal  classes,  as 
shown  by  his  attitude  on  this  meritorious  bill,  As- 
semblyman Keegan  has  invited  an  exposure  of  his 
record  and  he  must  take  the  consequences." 

When  Van  Buren  arrived  in  the  assembly  cor- 
ridor, a  few  minutes  before  the  assembly  convened, 
he  saw  Keegan  standing  alone  at  one  side  of  the 
entrance.  No  one  spoke  to  him.  The  crushing 
charges  of  Chief  O'Brien  had  been  seen  and  read 
by  all,  and  they  shunned  Keegan  as  if  he  were  a 
criminal  outcast. 

Van  Buren  had  been  thinking  about  the  bill  over- 
night and  examining  it  as  he  did  all  the  bills.  The 
more  he  read  its  provisions  the  stronger  became  an 
early  impression  that  it  put  enormous  and  irrespon- 
sible power  into  the  hands  of  one  man,  and  that 
it  was  opposed  to  the  whole  theory  of  the  English 
common  law  that  a  man  is  innocent  until  he  is  legal- 
ly proved  guilty.  Whatever  had  been  Keegan's 
motives,  Van  Buren  did  not  think  it  right,  and  if 
it  became  necessary  he  had  made  up  his  mind  that 
he  would  take  an  open  stand  against  the  bill. 

Seeing  Keegan  so  deserted  and  forlorn.  Van  Buren 
went  over  to  him,  and  in  a  friendly  way  said,  "  Come 
on  in,  the  session  is  about  to  begin." 

"I  ain't  goin'  in  there  any  more,"  said  Keegan, 
sullenly  relapsing  in  the  stress  of  emotion  into  the 
Five  Points  dialect  that  he  always  concealed  when 
he  could.  I'm  through.  D'ye  see  the  roast  der 
chief  had  on  me  in  de  papes?" 

"  Yes,  I  saw  it,  but  what  of  that?  You  did  right 
in  objecting  to  that  bill." 

169 


John   Van    Burcn,    Politician 

"  It  ain't  de  bill.  It's  me  mudder.  It's  in  all  de 
papes.  If  me  mudder  saw  them  she'd  die.  She 
always  t' ought  I  was  straight  and  decent.  It's  on 
account  o'  her  I  don't  drink  nor  smoke.  I'm  goin' 
away  from  here  to  Chicago,  where  a  man  like  me  has 
some  show.  De  chief  closed  me  places  last  night, 
and  what  can  a  liquor  store  do  shut  up  at  one 
o'clock?  They's  all  three  mortgaged,  and  nobody 
would  give  the  mortgage  for  them  with  the  chief 
poundin'  me." 

"Go  on  inside  and  tell  the  assembly  what  you 
have  told  me.  This  is  a  bad  bill,  and  they'll  all 
think  so  if  they  read  it  carefully." 

Keegan  walked  in  alone  and  over  to  his  seat.  The 
members  on  either  side  drew  away  and  left  him 
alone.  Everybody  regarded  him  intently.  They 
had  read  often  of  the  Whoo-Whoo  gang  and  the 
criminals  named  by  Chief  O'Brien  as  familiar  names. 
It  had  been  all  intangible  to  most  of  them,  but  here, 
in  concrete  shape,  as  one  of  their  own  number,  was 
the  brains  of  the  Whoo-Whoos.  They  looked  at 
him  in  a  new  light  with  a  mixture  of  curious  interest 
and  Pharisaical  aversion. 

After  the  opening  prayer,  and  while  the  journal 
was  being  read,  Keegan  rose.  Naturally  tall  and 
thin,  he  awkwardly  stretched  his  full  length  and 
gulped,  the  perspiration  standing  in  beads  on  his 
forehead.  There  was  sudden  silence.  No  one 
cared  to  lose  a  word. 

"Mr.  Speaka,  I  was  bom  around  de  comer  from 
de  Tombs,"  he  began,  his  Adam's -apple  jerking 
convulsively  as  he  forced  out  the  words  by  main 
strength,  "  and  all  me  life  I've  lived  where  ye  could 

170 


John   Van   Btiren,    Politician 

stand  on  de  top  o'  de  houses  and  see  de  men  hang 
on  de  gallers  in  de  Tombs  yard.  I  was  bom  there, 
and  I'll  die  there.  There's  where  all  the  frien's 
is  dat  I  ever  had.  But  what  I've  got  to  say  is 
this: 

"  Yer  all  saw  in  de  papes  what  de  chief  said  about 
me  this  morning.  Dat  Mike  de  Bite  is  a  frien'  of 
mine.  When  I  was  at  de  Mulberry  Street  school,  de 
only  schoolin'  I  ever  had,  Mike  Leonard  sat  on  de 
seat  wid  me.  It's  him  dey  call  Mike  de  Bite  now. 
Then  there's  him  dey  call  Choker  Bill.  I  knowed  him 
when  his  mother,  Mrs.  Callahan,  called  him  WilHe, 
and  we  was  boys  and  played  marbles  togedder. 
Patsy  Gurck  lived  in  the  same  tenement,  and 
when  me  fader  was  sick  to  his  death  Patsy's  moth- 
er came  in  and  helped  nurse  me  fader.  But  they's 
no  use  of  goin'  through  the  Hst.  All  dem  the  chief 
says  I've  knowed  man  and  boy  for  years  and  years; 
yes,  and  more.  Dey  is  my  frien's,  and  I'm  theirs. 
I'm  not  one  of  dem.  Me  mudder  kept  me  decent 
and  sober,  and  but  for  her  I  might  be  up  the  river 
now  doin'  time  instead  o'  here.  But  what  of  that? 
When  one  of  them  went  wrong  and  I  could  I  stood 
for  it.  When  he  was  in  trouble  and  I  could  help 
him  I  did.  If  he  was  in  the  pen  and  I  could  get 
him  out  I  did.  Ain't  they  human?  Does  youse 
tink  dat  people  round  Five  Points  is  wild  animals, 
and  deserts  one  another,  and  haint  got  no  souls  nor 
frien's  nor  feelings?" 

Keegan  straightened  up  while  the  breathless  si- 
lence continued,  and  gulped  again.  He  stiffened 
his  fists  with  the  tension  and  burst  forth : 

'*  What  de  chief  says  is  true.     I  done  it.     We  was 
171 


John    Van    Burcn^   Politician 

boys  togedder,  and  they  was  the  only  frien's  I  ever 
had." 

Copies  of  the  bill  had  reached  the  editors  of  the 
big  New  York  newspapers,  and  the  storm  of  edito- 
rial criticism  that  burst  the  next  day,  when  Keegan's 
speech  was  also  printed,  was  so  unusual  that  the 
bill  was  dropped,  and  Chief  O'Brien,  who  never 
cared  to  be  on  the  side  against  the  newspapers, 
abandoned  his  discriminating  vigilance  over  the 
Keegan  saloons. 


XIX 

HE  day  before  Christmas  Van  Buren 
went  home  again;  and  the  day  after 
Christmas  he  went  to  Albany  to  look 
over  the  rooms  in  the  Delavan  House 
which  he  had  engaged  by  letter  for 
the  session.  In  his  previous  visits  to  Albany  he 
had  paid  little  attention  to  the  Delavan,  as  it  was 
not  in  the  part  of  the  city  he  frequented,  but  he 
had  decided  to  go  there  for  the  winter,  because  al- 
most all  of  the  New  York  assemblymen  and  many 
of  the  members  from  the  country  made  it  their 
legislative  headquarters.  It  was  also  the  living- 
place  of  the  heads  of  the  lobby. 

There  was  a  legislative  atmosphere  about  the  old 
hotel,  even  before  the  session  began.  Red  curtains 
partitioned  off  the  reading-room  and  sitting-rooms  on 
the  marble  first  floor.  The  bar-room  was  surround- 
ed by  convenient  nooks,  w^here  political  conferences 
could  be  readily  irrigated.  Significant  of  the  way 
the  members  of  the  legislature  and  the  visitors 
spent  their  evenings  was  the  neighborhood.  On 
one  side  were  the  railroad  stations  and  track  oc- 
cupying the  land  between  the  hotel  and  the  Hudson 
River.  Across  Broadway,  opposite  the  hotel  en- 
trance, were  a  faro-bank  and  a  pool-room  occupying 
the  upper  floors  of  an  office  building.     A  few  doors 

173 


John    Van    Bxsrenf   Politician 

up  Broadway  was  another  gambling -house.  On 
the  main  street  leading  from  the  hotel  to  the  Capitol 
were  three  more  gambling -houses  and  two  pool- 
rooms. So  openly  were  these  gambling- houses  run 
that  they  not  only  had  illuminated  signs  extending 
over  the  sidewalk,  but  they  advertised  in  the  daily 
Albany  and  Troy  papers.  Public  opinion  in  Albany 
was  in  favor  of  keeping  these  places  upon  the  theory 
that  they  brought  money  to  Albany  and  kept  it 
there,  the  proprietors,  by  a  tacit  understanding  with 
the  police,  being  unmolested  so  long  as  they  did  not 
allow  residents  of  Albany  to  gamble.  These  games 
were  crowded  at  such  times  as  the  beginning  of  the 
session  and  when  important  bills  were  being  voted 
on. 

Elections  for  United  States  senator  gave  gam- 
bling-houses the  greatest  returns.  One  New  York 
assemblyman  called  Barn  Door  Sol,  from  the  fact 
that  he  would  take  in  anything,  sold  his  vote  to  the 
friends  of  one  candidate  for  senator  for  five  thou- 
sand dollars,  which  he  lost  the  same  night  at  faro 
at  the  Red  House,  and  returning  to  the  Delavan 
roused  the  manager  of  another  candidate  from  bed 
and  resold  his  vote  for  four  thousand  dollars,  with 
which  he  returned  and  continued  the  game.  Such 
proceedings  were  not  regarded  as  honorable  by  his 
associates,  whose  definition  of  an  honest  man  coin- 
cided with  that  of  a  certain  speaker  of  the  as- 
sembly— "An  honest  man  is  a  man  who  will  stay 
bought."  The  proprietors  of  the  gambling-houses 
kept  track  of  legislation,  and  permitted  their  legisla- 
tive friends  to  play  with  markers  on  the  strength  of 
the  returns  from  their  votes  on  pending  matters. 

174 


John    Van    Buren,   Politician 

Van  Buren's  rooms  were  in  the  northwest  corner 
of  the  hotel.  He  had  a  sitting  -  room,  bedroom 
and  bath,  which  cost  him  almost  half  of  his  sal- 
ary. There  had  been  forwarded  to  him  from  his 
New  York  office  passes  on  all  the  railroads,  parlor- 
cars,  steamboats,  and  telegraph  lines  in  the  State. 
This  he  found  was  a  matter  of  course,  and  that  the 
members  of  the  legislature  did  not  in  any  way  feel 
that  their  acceptance  of  these  passes  reHeved  the 
pass-giving  corporations  from  paying  for  any  de- 
sired favors.  Occasionally  some  new  assembly- 
man would  return  the  passes  with  a  public  announce- 
ment, but  such  propriety  was  rather  laughed  at  by 
the  older  members,  who  took  their  passes  as  they 
would  a  drink  or  a  cigar  from  a  lobbyist,  implying 
no  obligation  excepting  the  amenability  to  further 
negotiations. 

It  was  the  custom  to  hold  sessions  of  the  legis- 
lature on  Monday  evening  after  the  arrival  of  the 
afternoon  express  from  New  York,  and  on  Tuesday, 
Wednesday,  and  Thursday,  and  on  Friday  morning 
a  short  session,  adjourning  before  the  noon  express 
to  New  York.  This  enabled  the  legislators  to 
spend  Friday  evening  and  Saturday,  Sunday,  and 
Monday  at  their  homes.  The  passes  made  a  saving 
of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  a  session,  or 
ten  per  cent,  of  their  salaries,  and  did  not  inter- 
fere with  the  collecting  of  the  statutory  mileage. 

From  the  hotel  Van  Buren  took  a  car  down  State 
Street  to  Senator  Marlow's  offices,  and  found  him 
in  the  little  inside  room. 

*Xome  right  in,"  he  exclaimed.  "You're  a  man 
I've  been  wanting  to  see;  and  here's  another  friend 

175 


John    Van    Bxsren^  Politician 

of  mine,  Assemblyman  Peters.  He'll  look  after  our 
interests  in  the  lower  house  and  you  can  be  a  great 
help  to  him.  I  congratulate  you,  and  the  people, 
too,  on  your  election.  If  Tammany  would  only 
send  men  like  you  to  the  legislature,  it  would  give 
the  party  a  much  better  standing  and  appearance 
before  the  people." 

"I  came  to  thank  you,  senator,  for  the  advice 
you  gave  me  in  the  fall.  It  is  to  that  I  feel  I  owe 
my  election,  and  I  am  grateful  to  you." 

"I  saw  by  the  returns  that  the  enemy  were 
divided,  but  I  did  not  know  whether  it  was  chance 
or  manoeuvring.  Politics  is  the  battle  -  field  of 
peace,  and  tactics  and  strategy  have  as  much 
to  do  with  defeat  as  victory.  Up  the  State  we 
haven't  enough  privates  in  the  ranks.  There  are 
too  many  officers,  and  they  play  politics  too  much, 
instead  of  spending  their  time  filling  the  ranks  with 
new  recruits.  In  New  York  the  ranks  are  full,  but 
better  results  might  be  accomplished  with  more 
skilful  methods." 

The  senator.  Assemblymen  Peters,  and  Van 
Buren  had  a  long  talk  over  the  policy  of  the  session, 
the  senator  advising  the  course  to  be  pursued.  It 
had  been  decided  that  the  minority  should  nomi- 
nate Peters  for  speaker  and  seek  to  make  as  much 
party  capital  as  they  could.  Senator  Marlow's  term 
expired  in  a  year,  and  the  next  legislature  would 
elect  his  successor.  It  was  essential  to  him  tha.t  it 
should  be  Democratic. 

''Give  our  opponents  every  opportunity  to  make 
errors,"  advised  the  senator.  "The  people  rarely 
vote  in  favor  of  anything.     They  cast  their  votes 

176 


John    Van    Btirent    Politician 

to  defeat  some  measure,  to  turn  somebody  out  of 
office,  to  show  their  resentment  at  some  party  act." 

Miss  Marlow's  appearance  at  five  o'clock  broke 
up  the  session.  It  was  unintentional  on  Van  Buren's 
part  to  stay  until  she  came,  but  he  was  glad  of  it 
the  moment  he  saw  her.  She  let  herself  in  through 
the  private  door  to  the  hall. 

"Time  to  quit  politics,  senator,"  she  mockingly 
bowed.  ''How  are  you,  Mr.  Peters  and  Mr.  Van 
Buren?  'Mr.  Speaker,'  I  hope  I  can  say,  next 
year.  We'll  have  the  assembly  then.  No,  I  don't 
mean  you,  Mr.  Van  Buren.  Mr.  Peters  is  the  or- 
ganization candidate,  and  I  am  with  the  organiza- 
tion." 

Miss  Marlow  was  muffled  in  furs,  all  reddish- 
brown,  a  family  of  red  foxes.  Her  fur  driving-hat 
was  a  little  fox,  her  jacket  was  made  of  several 
fox-skins,  her  muff  had  been  a  tiny  fox,  and  round 
her  neck  was  a  boa  of  fox  tails  and  claws.  There 
were  three  shades  of  red,  the  red -brown  of  the  furs, 
the  red-pink  of  her  cheeks,  and  the  purple-red  of  her 
hair.  Her  hair  sparkled  with  little  diamonds  made 
by  nature  from  the  blowing  snow.  Van  Buren 
bowed  and  said  nothing.  The  picture  was  so  beau- 
tiful he  wanted  it  to  continue  a  picture. 

Miss  Marlow  turned  to  him.  "  I  congratulate 
you  on  your  election.  If  we  could  have  won  a  few 
more  Republican  districts  the  assembly  would  be 
ours,  and  Mr.  Peters  would  be  speaker  this  year." 

"What  a  candidate  you  would  make.  Miss  Mar- 
low!" Van  Buren  had  to  say  something.  "Every- 
body would  vote  for  you." 

"  Of  course  they  would.  That's  the  reason  wom- 
177 


John    Van    Burcn,    Politician 

en  aren't  allowed  to  run  for  office.  They  would  al- 
ways be  elected,  and  the  poor  men  couldn't  have 
any  offices  except  street-cleaners  and  policemen  and 
firemen." 

"What  I  want  to  be  speaker  for  most  of  all," 
Assemblyman  Peters  said,  "is  to  announce  the  ma- 
jority vote  of  the  assembly  for  the  senator's  re- 
election.    I'd  do  anything  for  that." 

"Those  are  the  sentiments  that  appeal  to  me," 
said  Miss  Marlow,  earnestly.  "Take  notice,  Mr. 
Van  Buren,  in  our  family  my  father  is  the  only  can- 
didate. Come  along,  father.  I'll  take  you  two 
men  as  far  as  the  club." 

Van  Buren  and  Peters  sat  in  the  sleigh  facing 
Miss  Marlow  and  the  senator.  When  they  were 
passing  the  Capitol  Peters  said  he  had  a  little  mat- 
ter to  attend  to  there  and  got  out.  As  the  remain- 
ing three  were  driving  up  Washington  Avenue  Van 
Buren  remonstrated.  "Don't  condemn  me  to  the 
club.  Miss  Marlow.  Take  me  with  you.  I'll  prom- 
ise not  to  talk  politics." 

"  It's  too  dark  to  drive,  but  I'll  give  you  a  cup  of 
tea  at  home.  I  don't  think  you  really  like  politics — 
not  the  way  father  does.  You  won't  succeed  if  you 
don't.  Concentration  brings  success.  Now  I  con- 
centrate on  father's  politics,  and  that  makes  it  so 
much  easier  for  him.  I'm  a  great  help  to  you,  am 
I  not,  father?" 

"Yes,  yes,"  assented  Senator  Marlow,  "but  you 
might  be  a  little  more  lenient.  There  is  hardly  a 
day  but  something  goes  undone  because  you  are  so 
prompt  in  coming  for  me." 

"That's  the  thanks  I  get,  Mr.  Van  Buren,  for 
178 


John    Van    Burent    Politician 

seeing  that  my  father  takes  exercise  and  food.  He 
wouldn't  know  the  time  of  day  if  it  weren't  for  me. 
It's  politics,  politics,  and  if  it  weren't  for  him  I'd 
hate  politics.  I'd  rather  raise  chickens.  When  I 
think  of  all  the  men  father  has  done  things  for,  I 
wonder  if  there  is  such  a  thing  as  gratitude." 

"  There  isn't  in  the  past  tense,"  replied  Van  Buren. 
''Gratitude  is  expectation.  Charity  and  gratitude 
are  two  abused  terms.  Most  charity  is  a  form  of  self- 
congratulation.  At  the  expense  of  making  many 
paupers,  it  feeds  the  vanity  and  adds  to  the  satis- 
faction of  the  givers.  The  only  real  charity  is  that 
of  the  poor  among  themselves.  They  give  of  their 
little  to  the  needy  and  deserving.  There  can  be 
no  real  charity  except  between  equals.  I've  no 
doubt  the  most  bitter  personal  enemies  the  senator 
has  are  men  whom  he  has  done  much  for  and  who 
hate  him  because  he  will  not  do  more." 

''That's  right,  Van  Buren,"  said  the  senator. 
"  You  lay  the  foundation  for  enmity  nine  times  out 
of  ten  when  you  do  a  man  an  undeserved  favor. 
Paying  political  or  personal  debts  is  one  thing. 
That  makes  a  friend.  The  recipient  feels  that  he 
got  what  he  earned  and  was  entitled  to,  and  goes  to 
work  to  earn  more,  but  the  man  who  benefits  by  an 
unearned  favor  knows  it.  He  wants  more  on  the 
same  terms.  The  line  has  to  be  drawn  somewhere, 
and  when  too  much  voracity  meets  with  a  refusal 
he  never  forgives.  The  greatest  mistake  in  politics 
is  to  give  little  things  to  men  who  aren't  entitled  to 
them  because  they  ask  for  them.  An  honest  *no' 
hurts  nobody.  It  is  easier  to  say  'yes'  in  the  be- 
ginning, but  it  is  a  bad  beginning." 

179 


John    Van    Btirent    Politician 

''You  would  establish  a  sort  of  debit  and  credit 
system  in  the  political  world  ?" 

"Why  not?  Politics  is  becoming  more  and  more 
of  a  business.     It  requires  business  methods." 

**I  thought  politics  was  more  sentimental." 

"There  is  sentiment  in  everything  —  sentiment 
and  policy,  both.  Mercantile  honor  is  a  sentiment. 
Sobriety  and  integrity  are  sentiments.  None  the 
less  they  are  good  policy." 

"Don't  you  believe  in  sentiment,  Miss  Marlow?" 
Van  Buren  wanted  her  to  speak  that  he  might  hear 
the  sound  of  her  voice. 

"  Of  course  I  do.  Sentiment  is  all  there  is  in  a 
woman's  life — all  she  has  to  live  for.  Only  I  don't 
like  the  word  sentiment.  It  does  not  have  the 
ring  of  what  I  mean.  It  is  not  strong  or  deep 
enough." 

"Try  the  range  of  synonyms — feeling,  love,  sym- 
pathy, affection."  ^ 

"  None  of  them  fits.  I  know  what  I  mean  well 
enough,  and  the  real  meaning  is  deeper  than  words. 
You  recall  the  old  hymn,  '  Blest  be  the  tie  that 
binds.'  It  is  the  'tie  that  binds'  that  I  mean,  all 
the  ties  that  bind." 

The  sleigh  had  gone  the  length  of  Washington 
Avenue  and  back.  The  street  lights  had  been  lit; 
the  flying  particles  of  snow  rediamonded  Miss  Mar- 
low's  hair  and  covered  her  furs  with  their  sparkles; 
the  crunching  of  the  snow  was  a  musical  accom- 
paniment in  Van  Buren' s  ears  to  the  sound  of  Miss 
Marlow' s  voice.  He  preferred  to  sit  and  watch  her 
and  listen  to  her.  Talking  to  her  was  an  effort,  a 
disturbance  of  his  passive  enjoyment  of  her  beauty, 

1 80 


John    Van    Burcnt    Politician 

and  he  wished  that  her  father  would  continue  the 
conversation  without  him. 

Miss  Marlow  poured  tea  for  her  father  and  Van 
Buren  in  the  hbrary.  Mrs.  Marlow  had  not  yet  re- 
turned from  a  church  board  meeting.  *'  Father  and 
I  have  our  cup  of  tea  by  ourselves  here,"  Miss  Mar- 
low explained.  "You  are  highly  honored  to  be 
permitted  to  join  us.  If  mother  were  here  I'd  send 
you  out  to  have  tea  with  the  potentates." 

"I  must  go  after  that  and  one  cup,"  said  Van 
Buren.  ''Thank  you  for  not  sending  me  at  once 
to  the  club.  You  don't  know,  senator,  what  it  is 
to  me,  an  afternoon  like  this.  It  will  make  me 
wondrous  wise." 

"Like  the  bramble -bush  man,"  laughed  Miss 
Marlow. 


XX 


IAN  BUREN  ran  down  to  New  York 
for  a  few  days  to  consult  with  Com- 
missioner ]\Iahoney  and  Mr.  Coulter. 
He  understood  that  general  orders 
were  issued  to  Tammany  members 
of  the  legislature  at  the  beginning  of  the  session, 
and  special  instructions  from  time  to  time,  as  the 
occasion  arose,  and  he  thought  it  would  be  advis- 
able to  find  out  about  it.  He  took  dinner  with  the 
commissioner  at  the  Democratic  Club,  and  asked 
what  was  expected  of  him. 

"There  won't  be  many  matters  this  year  for  you 
to  bother  about,"  the  commissioner  explained. 
*'  Of  course,  you'll  vote  with  the  party  on  all  politi- 
cal legislation,  and  on  the  other  matters  use  your 
best  judgment  to  make  a  good  record.  Don't  be 
offensively  righteous,  but  keep  in  view  the  nature 
of  the  district  and  that  what  we  want  is  to  carry 
the  next  legislature.  If  we  do  that  there'll  be 
some  big  things  on,  and  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if 
we'd  have  trouble  with  you.  That  may  be  your 
finish.  But  I'm  not  worrying  that  far  ahead.  To 
carry  the  legislature  we  will  have  to  re-elect  you, 
and  carry  at  least  seven  other  naturally  Republican 
districts.  That  will  give  us  the  organization  of  the 
assembly,  and  in  the  senate  we  stand  a  fair  show  to 

182 


John    Van    Barent    Politician 

break  even.  Mr.  Coulter  and  I  want  you  to  do 
everything  that  will  strengthen  you  for  re-election. 
Any  tough  jobs  will  be  turned  over  to  men  who 
don't  mind  and  have  sure  districts." 

"That  puts  me  in  a  pleasant  position,"  said  Van 
Buren;  "but  why  do  you  say  that  next  year  will 
be  my  finish?" 

"Maybe  it  won't.  I  hope  you'll  become  practi- 
cal enough  to  stay  at  it.  That's  the  trouble  I  have 
with  the  Murray  Hill  district.  The  only  kind  of 
Democrat  it  will  elect  is  some  new  man,  like  you, 
with  a  good  American  name  and  club  and  social  con- 
nections. It  has  done  so  several  times  before,  but 
they  never  lasted.  They  were  too  good.  Now,  I 
never  made  a  dirty  dollar  in  my  life,  but  I  don't  go 
out  of  my  way  to  throw  mud  at  other  people.  At- 
tend to  your  own  business  and  politicians  will  re- 
spect you.  They  understand  you  are  different, 
only  they  can't  see  why  your  kind  of  man  doesn't 
understand  that  they  are  different,  too.  We  elected 
one  of  the  South  Carolina  Pinckneys  to  the  assem- 
bly four  years  ago,  and  he  was  so  shocked  at  the 
goings-on  that  he  spent  more  time  denouncing  his 
own  friends  than  the  Republicans.  Any  time  you 
get  to  the  boiling-point,  select  an  unpopular  bit  of 
Republican  rascality  and  boil  over  on  that.  I  don't 
say  that  Tammany  is  any  better,  but  the  other  peo- 
ple are  bad  enough  to  keep  any  one's  time  fully  oc- 
cupied exposing  and  denouncing  them." 

"  You  seem  to  think  I'll  go  the  way  of  the  others." 

"I  hope  not." 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  expect  to  accomplish  any 
great  reforms.  What  I  wanted  to  go  to  the  assem- 
^3  183 


John    Van    Btxrent    Politician 

bly  for  is  the  experience.  I  want  to  see  how  laws 
are  actually  made  and  be  part  of  it." 

''That's  a  more  sensible  reason  than  a  desire  to 
reform  the  world.  New  York  City  was  not  built 
in  a  day,  and  it  takes  more  than  one  man  to  re- 
form it." 

"How  many  men  would  it  take?" 

"  Every  man,  woman,  and  child.  A  city  is  what 
its  people  make  it.  The  kind  of  government  they 
have  is,  in  the  long-run,  about  what  they  want. 
How  many  of  the  professional  reformers  would  al- 
low somebody  else  to  reform  their  faults  and  fail- 
ings? Human  nature  is  pretty  much  the  same 
whether  it  lives  at  Five  Points  or  on  Fifth  Avenue." 

After  dinner  they  v/ent  down-stairs  to  the  main 
hall,  where  Mr.  Coulter  was  holding  his  usual  even- 
ing levee  under  the  aureole  of  electric  lights  in  front 
of  his  portrait.  The  club  was  thronged.  The  new 
mayor  was  not  to  take  office  until  January  ist,  and, 
although  the  major  appointments  had  been  an- 
nounced, there  were  hundreds  of  smaller  places, 
for  which  there  were  thousands  of  applicants.  The 
office-seekers,  clad  in  all  kinds  of  dress  suits,  some 
of  them  obviously  hired,  clustered  around  with  their 
friends  and  backers,  waiting  an  opportunity  to  urge 
their  claims  upon  Mr.  Coulter. 

Mr.  Coulter  himself  was  immaculately  attired, 
and  showed  the  result  of  a  skilled  and  expensive 
tailor's  labors  to  tone  down  the  rough  outlines  of 
his  square-set,  muscular  figure,  and  of  a  barber  and 
a  valet  who  had  done  their  best.  His  clothes  did 
not  seem  part  of  him,  and  while  in  one  sense  they 
were  an  excellent  fit,  they  did  not  look  to  be  fitting. 

184 


John    Van    Btirent    Politician 

The  spatulate  fingers  and  gnarled  hands,  one  jam- 
med in  a  trousers-pocket  not  made  for  it  and  the 
other  half  clinched  in  the  natural  position  of  the 
hand  of  a  manual  laborer  when  at  rest;  the  shoul- 
ders heavy  and  bent  with  years  of  hard  physical 
toil;  the  thick,  wrinkled,  and  tanned  neck;  the  bull- 
dog head  and  massive  jaw,  and  the  cock  of  the  cigar 
between  the  teeth  long  accustomed  to  a  pipe — 
the  appearance  and  impressions  of  these  could  not 
be  wiped  out  by  the  best  the  tailor,  the  barber,  and 
the  valet  could  do.  Withal,  he  was  a  strong  man, 
exuding  a  sense  of  power  and  a  habit  of  command. 
Van  Buren  resented  the  feeling  of  deference  that 
unwillingly  came  to  him  in  Mr.  Coulter's  pres- 
ence. 

As  soon  as  Mr.  Coulter  saw  Van  Buren  he  stepped 
forv/ard  to  greet  him.  This  noticeable  mark  of  at- 
tention caused  a  hum  of  comment.  Van  Buren 
was  known  by  sight  to  few  of  those  present,  but 
within  a  minute  his  name,  office,  appearance,  and 
antecedents  had  been  impressed  on  the  memory  of 
every  individual  in  the  crowd.  They  regarded  him 
as  one  of  the  latest  of  Mr.  Coulter's  favorites. 

*'I  want  to  congratulate  you  on  the  fight  you 
made."  Mr.  Coulter  shook  Van  Buren's  hand  with 
a  cordial  grip.  ''We  could  carry  every  district  in 
New  York  if  our  district  leaders  would  only  put 
up  the  right  men.  Give  the  people  what  they  want. 
Tammany  is  looking  for  men  like  you,  Mr.  Van 
Buren.  We  want  to  push  you  forward,  and  any- 
thing we  can  do  for  you  or  your  friends  let  me 
know.  I'd  like  to  have  the  leaders  in  the  districts 
west  of  the  park  that  re  -  elected  their  Republican 

185 


John    Van    Barent    Politician 

assemblymen   this   year  follow  and  profit   by  the 
example  Commissioner  Mahoney  has  set." 

Mr.  Coulter  raised  his  voice  a  little  so  that  the 
men  standing  by  could  hear  these  last  words,  know- 
ing that  before  the  evening  was  over  his  words  would 
be  repeated  a  score  of  times  to  every  Tammany 
leader  in  a  Republican  district. 

"  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Coulter,  and  I  appreciate  your 
congratulations,"  said  Van  Buren.  "I  should  also 
appreciate  any  advice  you  feel  like  giving  me." 

"  Make  a  record  that  you  can  be  re-elected  on. 
That's  most  important.  The  organization  won't 
have  any  matters  of  particular  importance  this  win- 
ter. I  don't  look  after  the  details  of  legislation 
myself.  Mr.  Stevens,  whom  you  may  know,  drops 
in  at  Albany  occasionally  for  us  during  the  winter. 
Talk  with  him  when  you  are  in  doubt.  I  am  always 
glad  to  see  you.  Let  me  known  anything  I  can  do 
for  you." 

Van  Buren  thanked  Mr.  Coulter  again,  and  drew 
off  to  one  side  to  make  room  for  the  next  applicant. 
The  stream  of  petitioners  continued  as  long  as  Mr. 
Coulter  stood  ready  to  receive  them.  He  called 
every  one  by  name.  In  rare  cases  the  conversation 
could  be  heard  by  the  by-standers.  From  the  ex- 
pressions on  the  applicants'  faces  there  were  many 
disappointments. 

For  an  hour  the  commissioner  and  Van  Buren 
sat  in  the  cafe  watching  the  crowd.  Few  of  the  men 
were  at  ease.  There  was  an  atmosphere  of  anxiety, 
of  ungratified  desires  and  disappointed  hopes. 

"  I  should  call  this  scene  rather  sad,"  commented 
Van  Buren. 

i86 


John    Van    Btiren^    Politician 

''It  is,  though  I  never  looked  at  it  that  way," 
replied  the  commissioner.  "  Of  course,  many  must 
be  disappointed.  There  aren't  enough  offices  for  a 
tenth  of  the  applicants.  Then  the  civil  service  in- 
terferes." 

"  I  suppose  you  are  opposed  to  the  civil  service 
law?" 

''  Personally  I  can't  say  that  I  am.  The  law  is 
bad,  but  it  is  a  good  excuse  for  politicians.  When 
a  man  wants  a  little  clerkship  or  to  be  a  policeman 
or  a  fireman,  and  is  turned  down  by  the  civil  ser- 
vice, he  can't  blame  his  district  leader,  while  if  there 
were  no  civil  service  we  should  have  to  do  the  turn- 
ing down  ourselves  and  make  so  many  enemies." 

*' Then  why  do  you  say  it  is  a  bad  law?  Doesn't 
it  procure  a  better  class  of  men  than  if  the  district 
leaders  had  the  unrestricted  power  to  appoint?" 

"It  does  nothing  of  the  sort.  The  examinations 
don't  show  fitness.  Any  high-school  graduate  can 
pass  them,  but  it  takes  other  qualities,  like  expe- 
rience or  common-sense,  to  make  a  good  policeman 
or  fireman  or  a  clerk.  Our  police  force  is  deteriorat- 
ing for  that  reason.  Truckmen,  longshoremen,  por- 
ters, street-car  drivers,  and  the  like  make  the  best 
policemen.  They  know  little  old  New  York  from 
the  Battery  to  Spuyten  Duyvil.  They  are  used  to 
out-door  exposure,  and  they  have  the  strength  and 
nerve.  But  they  can't  pass  the  examinations. 
They  left  school  too  early.  Any  soft-handed,  flabby- 
muscled,  high-school  graduate  can  answer  more 
questions  than  they  can.  With  firemen  it's  even 
more  so.  A  fireman  requires  a  cool  head,  hard 
sense,  and  nerve.     How  are  his  answers  to  a  set  of 

187 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

printed  questions  going  to  determine  that?  The 
very  quaUties  that  make  a  man  valuable  in  politics 
help  to  make  him  a  good  policeman  or  fireman,  if 
he  has  the  physique  and  the  nerve,  and  those  are 
the  men  a  district  leader  would  naturally  put  on  the 
force.  The  medical  and  physical  examination  is  all 
right,  but  the  high-school  questions  are  no  good." 

"  How  about  the  clerks?" 

"  Substitute  a  simple  examination  in  handwrit- 
ing, spelling,  and,  where  a  book-keeper  or  something 
special  is  required,  an  examination  in  that,  and  it 
wouldn't  be  so  bad.  I  recall  the  mayor  telling  me 
about  a  clerk  the  civil  service  board  sent  him.  You 
know  all  the  city  warrants  go  through  the  mayor's 
office  to  be  countersigned  by  him.  He  found  that 
the  warrant-clerk  was  taking  ten-dollar  tips  to  hurry 
some  warrants  through  out  of  their  order.  They 
would  have  been  signed  anyway  in  their  regular 
course,  and  the  warrant-clerk  had  nothing  to  do  but 
enter  them  in  a  book,  and  check  them  off  when 
signed  to  see  none  was  lost  or  mislaid.  The  inves- 
tigation and  auditing  were  done  by  the  comptrol- 
ler's office,  and  the  mayor's  signature  was  almost 
perfunctory.  The  mayor  didn't  like  the  tip-taking 
and  transferred  the  clerk,  who  was  one  of  our  peo- 
ple ;  then  he  sent  to  the  civil  service  board  for  a  good, 
reliable  clerk  who  had  no  political  connections. 

"They  sent  a  young  man  who  had  just  passed  a 
most  creditable  examination.  He  brought  his  ex- 
amination papers  with  him  and  showed  them  to 
the  mayor.  The  mayor  read  them  and  gasped.  He 
was  a  hard-headed  business  man,  and  he  thought 
he  was  fairly  well  educated,  but  he  couldn't  have 


John    Van    Btircnt    Politician 

answered  a  quarter  of  the  questions.  The  mayor 
kept  the  papers  and  showed  them  to  me.  Here  are 
a  few  of  them: 

"  Name  the  principal  rivers  of  France  and  the  waters  into 
which  they  flow. 

"How  many  states  compose  the  German  Empire  and 
what  are  their  respective  populations  ? 

' '  Where  was  the  first  railroad  built  in  the  United  States 
and  when? 

"Is  a  perpetual  motion  machine  possible?  State  the 
reasons  for  your  answer. 

"Is  the  trajectory  of  a  cannon-ball  a  perfect  arc?  Also 
state  whether  the  highest  point  a  projectile  in  motion 
attains  is  nearer  its  start  or  its  fall. 

"Describe  the  different  planetary  systems  visible  to  the 
naked  eye. 

"These  are  only  a  few  samples  I  copied  to  show 
to  office-seekers.  That  young  man's  percentage  on 
questions  like  these  was  over  ninety." 

**  There  are  only  two  questions  on  the  list  you 
have  given  that  I  could  answer  off-hand,"  said  Van 
Buren.  "Still,  I  think  I  know  how  to  get  the  re- 
quired information." 

"  You  couldn't  pass  the  examination,  then.  They 
wouldn't  suspend  it  until  you  went  to  some  library 
and  looked  the  answers  up." 

"How  did  the  clerk  make  out?" 

"That's  the  best  of  it.  The  clerk  felt  charged 
with  the  responsibilities  of  the  administration.  A 
few  days  after  he  began  he  cam^c  in  to  the  mayor 
and  said,  '  Mr.  Mayor,  on  Friday  I  placed  a  warrant 
for  forty -seven  thousand  eight  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars  on  your  desk.  It  is  now  Monday  and  that 
warrant  has  not  been  returned  to  me.' 

189 


John    Van    Biircn^    Politician 

'"Yes,  I  know,'  replied  the  mayor.  'I  have  it 
in  my  desk.' 

**  Tuesday  morning  the  clerk  again  appeared. 

'"That  warrant  for  forty -seven  thousand  eight 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  to  the  order  of  John 
McKenna,  is  still  in  your  possession,  I\Ir.  Mayor.' 

"'I  know  it  is,'  again  replied  the  ma^^or. 

''Tuesday  afternoon  the  clerk  again  appeared. 

'"Mr.  McKenna  was  in  after  that  warrant,'  he 
reprovingly  said  to  the  mayor.  '  I  explained  it  to 
him  as  well  as  I  could.' 

"'What  business  have  you  explaining  anything? 
You  go  back  to  your  wire  cage  and  stay  there. 
Officer' — to  the  mayor's  policeman — '  lock  this  young 
man  up  in  his  wire  cage,  and  don't  let  him  out  or 
let  any  one  speak  to  him  during  business  hours.' 

"Wednesday  morning  the  clerk  hovered  around 
until  the  mayor  appeared,  when  he  again  began, '  Mr. 
Mayor,  I  could  not  sleep  last  night  for  the  respon- 
sibility of  that  warrant.  As  a  sworn  official  charged 
with  the  custody  of  the  city's  warrants,  I  fear  I 
shall  be  held  responsible  for  that  forty-seven  thou- 
sand eight  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  It  would  re- 
lieve me  greatly  if  you  would  promptly  return  that 
warrant  with  your  action  stated  in  writing  thereon. 
If  you  decline  to  sign  the  warrant,  as  I  understand 
you  have  that  right,  I  am  entitled,  for  my  own 
protection,  to  request  that  your  refusal  and  the  rea- 
sons therefor  be  put  in  writing  and  filed  with  me.' 

"The  mayor  exploded  at  the  time,  and  used  pro- 
fane language,  but  he  has  often  laughed  over  it 
since.  That  young  man  made  himself  such  a  general 
pestiferous  nuisance  that  he  had  to  be  got  rid  of." 

190 


XXI 

I  HE  legislative  year  began  with  the 
governor's  New -Year's  receptions  after 
the  Artillery  Ball  on  New- Year's  eve. 
Van  Buren  had  returned  from  New 
York  on  the  legislative  express,  which 
left  the  Grand  Central  Station  at  three-thirty  in  the 
afternoon,  and  carried  few  passengers  who  had  not  a 
pass.  By  chance  an  Albany  merchant,  Van  Buren's 
old  friend  Colonel  G.  Humphrey  Ring,  who  should 
have  known  better,  took  seat  No.  17  in  the  senato- 
rial parlor-car,  and  settled  himself  to  enjoy  the  river 
view  when  the  train  should  reach  the  Hudson. 
State  Senator  Brown  had  been  watching  the  man 
who  goes  around  to  hammer  the  car  wheels  and 
see  that  they  are  sound,  and  heard  him  remark  to 
the  assistant  depot  -  master  that  one  of  the  wheels 
on  this  particular  car  was  cracked  and  that  an- 
other car  would  have  to  be  substituted.  Going  on 
into  the  car.  Senator  Brown  walked  up  and  down 
the  aisle  examining  the  numbers  on  the  seats. 
Stopping  at  seat  No.  17,  he  turned  to  Colonel  Ring 
and  said: 

"  Pardon  me,  sir,  but  I  am  Senator  Brown,  and 
that  is  my  accustomed  seat.  I  should  be  glad  to 
furnish  you  with  another  seat.  Porter,  show  the 
gentleman  another  seat." 

191 


John    Van    Burcn,    Politician 

Colonel  Ring  fumed. 

''Why  should  I  give  you  my  seat?  What  pre- 
sumption!    I  might  say,  what  impudence!" 

Senator  Brown  calmly  turned  to  the  porter. 

''Johnson,  tell  the  gentleman  who  I  am." 

"That's  Senatah  Brown,  sah.  The  senatah  al- 
ways comes  up  on  this  train." 

"Find  him  another  seat  then.  Here  is  a  Wag- 
ner ticket  for  my  chair,  and  I'll  give  it  up  to 
nobody." 

"I  regret  exceedingly,  sir,"  placidly  continued 
Senator  Brown,  "the  manner  in  which  you  choose 
to  take  my  polite  request.  I  made  it  not  on  my 
personal  behalf,  but  in  the  interest  of  the  people  of 
the  Empire  State.  I  am  accustomed  to  occupy 
seat  No.  17,  and,  basking  in  the  afternoon  sunshine, 
to  view  the  Palisades,  the  Catskills,  and  the  noble 
Hudson.  A  few  hours  so  spent  fill  me  with  a  serene 
tranquillity,  and  enable  me  to  approach  my  legis- 
lative duties  in  a  proper  spirit,  which  redounds  solely 
to  the  benefit  of  the  people  of  the  State,  whose  ser- 
vant and  representative  I  am.  I  regret  the  neces- 
sity to  take  other  measures.  Conductor,  this  gentle- 
man has  a  ticket  for  seat  No.  1 7,  car  Pocahontas,  and 
insists  on  it.  Kindly  have  this  car  taken  oft'  and 
some  other  car  substituted  on  which  this  gentleman's 
ticket  to  seat  No.  17  will  not  be  good.  Provide  him, 
however,  with  equally  good  accommodations." 

Turning  to  the  other  passengers,  almost  all  of 
whom  knew  him  personally.  Senator  Brown  went 
on:  "It  is  with  regret,  gentlemen,  that  I  see  you 
put  to  this  inconvenience,  but  the  good  of  the  peo- 
ple is  the  supreme  law.     You  can  say  it  in  Latin, 

192 


John    Van    Burcnt    Politician 

if  you  prefer.  I  am  going  up-stairs  to  see  my  friend 
Chauncey  and  have  the  change  made." 

Senator  Brown  went  out  on  the  platform  to  watch 
the  fun.  Colonel  Ring  was  storming,  and  passen- 
gers who  knew  Senator  Brown  were  wondering  what 
would  happen  next,  when  the  assistant  depot-master 
came  in,  and  shouted:  "All  out.  This  car  is  not 
going." 

**Why  isn't  it  going?"  screeched  Colonel  Ring. 
''  Do  you  allow  this  gang  of  impudent  politicians  to 
run  this  road?  I  am  a  stockholder,  and  my  firm 
and  my  father  before  me.  I'll  bring  this  to  the  at- 
tention of  the  directors  and  the  president  and  the 
stockholders.     This  is  an  outrage!" 

The  innocent  assistant  depot-master,  who  knew 
Colonel  Ring,  was  astonished.  "Why,  colonel,  you 
don't  want  to  ride  in  a  car  with  a  cracked  wheel, 
it's  dangerous.  Our  car-tester  just  found  a  crack. 
Another  parlor-car  will  be  put  on  at  once,  and 
this  one  will  be  sent  to  Mott  Haven  for  a  new 
wheel." 

"That's  your  way  of  letting  yourself  out  of  it. 
You  don't  appease  me.  I  don't  blame  you.  I  sup- 
pose you  do  what  you're  told.  But  I'll  see  whether 
this  road  is  run  by  this  gang  of  pass-riding  politi- 
cians or  by  the  stockholders  and  the  public." 

The  crowd  filed  out  of  the  car  and  onto  the  plat- 
form, all  but  two  assemblymen  who  knew  what  a 
practical  joker  Senator  Brown  was  and  kept  their 
seats,  thinking  it  was  all  a  bluff.  They  were  car- 
ried up  to  the  Mott  Haven  yards  by  a  switching- 
engine.  Another  parlor-car  was  put  on.  Senator 
Brown  solemnly  stalked  in  while  all  the  other  pas- 

193 


John    Van    Btiren^    Politician 

sengers  stood  until  he  took  seat  No.  17.     The  train 
started. 

''Porter,  bring  a  case  of  champagne,"  said  the 
senator.  "  My  dear  colonel,  I  trust  you  will  join 
us.  I  have  often  heard  of  you,  and  admired  you 
by  reputation.  Let  us  all  drink  to  *  The  People — 
they  pay  the  taxes.'  " 

It  was  a  glimpse  of  a  new  side  of  life  to  Van 
Buren.  He  had  sat  quietly  puzzled  over  the  scene, 
had  filed  out  with  the  rest  of  the  passengers,  and  re- 
turned when  told.  Senator  Brown  made  the  por- 
ter pass  trays  with  the  filled  glasses  to  everybody 
in  the  car.  Van  Buren  recalled  his  Tammany  train 
experience  and  started  to  decline. 

''The  senatah  will  feel  hurt,"  whispered  the  por- 
ter. 

Van  Buren  drank  to  the  toast  of  "The  People." 
Senator  Brown  left  his  seat  and  went  across  to  Van 
Buren. 

"I've  heard  a  lot  of  pleasant  things  about  you 
from  Commissioner  Mahoney,"  he  said,  "and  I've 
promised  to  keep  an  eye  on  you,  that  is,  if  you 
don't  mind.  Som.e  of  the  men  who  have  tried  to 
represent  your  district  thought  they  were  too  good 
for  the  rest  of  us." 

Knowing  from  the  newspapers  that  Senator 
Brown,  otherwise  known  as  the  Wicked  Brown,  was 
the  Republican  leader  of  the  senate.  Van  Buren 
was  surprised  at  the  obviously  friendly  relations 
between  him  and.  Commissioner  IMahoney. 

"I've  read  a  great  deal  about  you,  senator,  in  the 
newspapers.  I'd  be  glad  to  have  you  give  me 
points." 

194 


John    Van    Btircnt    Politician 

"Yes,  I  suppose  you've  read  that  I  have  horns. 
You'll  change  your  opinion  about  newspaper  judg- 
ments after  they've  written  you  up  a  few  times." 

Van  Buren  was  glad  to  have  an  opportunity  to 
study  the  noted  senator.  He  saw  that  everybody 
liked  him,  and  many  of  them  had  a  positive  affec- 
tion for  him.  He  was  a  handsome  man,  tall,  dis- 
tinguished in  appearance,  simply  and  neatly  dressed, 
his  hair  turning  gray,  and  his  gray  mustache  worn 
drooping  to  hide  partially  a  deep  scar  made  by  a 
Confederate  bullet  at  Cold  Harbor.  He  was  evi- 
dently an  American  to  the  third  and  fourth  genera- 
tion, a  different  type  from  the  Irish,  the  Germans, 
and  the  Hebrews  Van  Buren  had  been  meeting  at 
the  Democratic  Club. 

Poker  games  started  at  once  in  the  state-rooms 
at  each  end  of  the  car,  and  pinochle,  euchre,  and 
hearts  were  played  by  those  who  had  not  room  to 
get  in  the  state-rooms.  It  was  a  social  card  club 
on  wheels.  Senator  Brown  had  taken  pains  to 
flatter  and  appease  Colonel  Ring.  It  was  his  policy 
always  to  try  to  smooth  out  the  results  of  one  of 
his  practical  jokes. 

It  was  long  after  dark  when  the  train  reached 
Albany.  Van  Buren  had  drifted  into  one  of  the 
games  of  hearts,  and  at  five  cents  a  heart  he  had 
won  six  dollars  and  twenty-five  cents,  not  enough 
to  call  it  real  gambling,  but  with  a  pleasant  feeling 
that  he  had  not  been  beaten. 

From  the  station  Van  Buren  walked  over  to  the 
Delavan  and  had  a  short  dinner.  Then  he  dressed 
and  started  up  to  the  Holland  Club  to  wait  until  it 
was  time  to  go  to  the  Artillery  Ball  at  the  opera- 

195 


John    Van    Burcn^    Politician 

house.  This  ball  was  the  feature  of  the  Albany 
social  year,  except  the  Charity  Ball  later  in  the 
season,  and  at  the  Charity  Ball  there  was  nothing 
except  lemonade,  polly  water,  coffee,  and  the  like 
to  drink.  The  artillery  was  the  only  ball  where 
everybody  in  Albany  who  had  a  dress  suit  and 
respectable  parentage  danced  and  drank.  Van 
Buren  arrived  when  the  ball  was  in  full  swing.  The 
orchestra  of  the  opera-house  had  been  floored  over 
on  a  level  with  the  stage.  Albany  society  was 
divided  into  groups,  and  the  ball  was  going  on  as  if 
it  were  four  or  five  separate  dances,  each  group  oc- 
cupying a  particular  section  of  the  floor  space. 
Occasionally  a  couple  from  the  Elk  Street  group 
would  gyrate  around  the  floor  over  the  sections  of 
the  other  groups,  who  resented  the  intrusion.  The 
chaperons  were  divided  in  like  groups,  and  the 
same  distinctions  were  carried  into  the  supper-room. 
The  officers  of  the  Venerable  Albany  Artillery  acted 
as  floor  managers,  looking  imposing  and  uncom- 
fortable in  their  heavy  uniforms.  The  privates, 
wearing  fur  caps  two  feet  high,  acted  as  a  military 
guard,  changing  every  half  -  hour  to  give  them  op- 
portunity to  dance.  The  governor's  staff  was  pres- 
ent in  the  full  uniforms  they  w^ould  wear  at  the 
New  -  Year's  reception,  and  visiting  officers  from 
Watervliet  Arsenal,  Troy,  and  other  military  or- 
ganizations as  far  off  as  New  York  and  Buffalo 
added  to  the  splendor. 

Miss  Marlow  was  dancing  with  a  United  States 
army  captain  when  Van  Buren  found  her.  He 
took  a  seat  off  the  dancing  floor  to  watch  her  un- 
observed.    She  was  dressed  in  crimson-purple  and 

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John    Van    Burent    Politician 

black,  colors  more  used  by  a  matron  than  by  young 
girls.  Her  ball-gown  did  not  look  new  even  to  Van 
Buren's  inexpert  eye.  It  seemed  more  like  an  old 
favorite.  The  only  jewelry  he  could  see  was  a 
jeweled  bar  which  held  her  hair  high  on  her  head. 
She  had  pinned  across  her  corsage  two  or  three 
American  Beauty  roses.  Van  Buren  wondered 
who  had  sent  them  to  her  and  why  he  had  not 
thought  of  doing  it  himself.  Her  general  color 
effect  was  in  different  shades  of  red,  but  ruddier  and 
more  crimson  than  her  appearance  in  the  fox  furs  in 
the  sleigh.  She  danced  well,  and  Van  Buren  was  con- 
tent to  sit  watching  her  so  long  as  she  was  in  motion. 
When  the  waltz  was  over  she  went  back  to  her  seat  in 
the  box  where  her  father  was.  Van  Buren  followed 
her  there.     His  first  greeting  was  to  the  senator. 

**  I  didn't  know  you  went  to  dances,  senator." 

*'  This  is  a  concession  to  me,"  replied  Miss  Marlow. 
'*  He  comes  to  be  with  me.  That  is  a  real  compli- 
ment. Sometimes  he  lets  me  go  to  a  convention  to 
be  with  him,  and  that  is  my  return." 

"Would  that  I  had  such  a  dutiful  daughter," 
laughed  Van  Buren. 

"Maybe  when  you  are  my  age.  Van  Buren,  you 
won't  voluntarily  go  to  a  dance,"  said  the  senator. 
"Still,  I  like  to  see  it,  only  I  go  home  early  and 
leave  Mary  with  her  mother." 

Mrs.  Marlow  had  left  the  box  to  sit  with  the  Elk 
Street  chaperons. 

"  I  don't  think  father  recognizes  that  all  these 
men  have  votes,"  said  Miss  Marlow.  "If  he  would 
only  look  on  them  as  voters  instead  of  dancing  men 
his  interest  would  be  aroused." 

197 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

*'The  dress  suit  has  a  value  in  politics,"  said  Van 
Buren.  "In  a  district  like  mine  in  New  York  a 
man  must  dress  well  to  be  elected." 

''But  that's  only  one  district,"  said  the  senator. 
''It  is  the  mass  of  the  people  you  want  with  you, 
and,  if  class  lines  are  to  be  drawn,  go  with  the  class 
that  holds  the  most  votes." 

"Aren't  you  omitting  one  thing,  senator,"  asked 
Van  Buren — "the  power  of  social  prestige  and  its 
effect  on  public  opinion?  We  had  a  reform  cam- 
paign in  Schenectady  a  few  years  ago.  The  money, 
the  saloons,  and  almost  all  the  politicians  were  on 
one  side.  There  was  a  big  mass-meeting  where  all 
the  prominent  business  men  and  social  leaders,  with 
a  few  ex-judges  and  the  bishop,  sat  on  the  plat- 
form in  full  dress.  I  don't  think  half  of  them  took 
the  trouble  to  register  and  vote.  It  was  all  we 
could  do  to  get  them  to  the  meeting." 

"That's  the  same  trouble  I  found,"  said  the 
senator.  "They  think  they've  discharged  their 
civic  duties  when  they  go  to  a  public  meeting  and 
allow  their  names  to  be  used." 

"That's  entirely  true,"  replied  Van  Buren,  "but 
we  won  that  election  through  the  effect  of  their 
names  and  presence  on  the  hundreds  of  small  house- 
holders and  little  tax-payers  who  sat  on  the  benches. 
They  abandoned  their  usual  political  habit  that 
once  to  vote  for  what  seemed  to  them  the  good  of 
the  community  so  unanimously  expressed  by  its 
leading  citizens." 

"  Maybe  their  wives  had  something  to  do  with 
it,"  queried  Miss  Marlow.  "Weren't  there  women 
present  at  the  mass-meeting?" 

198 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

"  I  forgot.  The  wives  and  daughters  of  the  prom- 
inent citizens  sat  in  the  boxes,  and  many  of  the 
audience  brought  their  wives  with  them." 

"  I  thought  so.  Women  are  more  of  a  power  in 
politics  than  if  they  voted." 

The  army  captain  returned  and  took  Miss  Marlow 
for  another  dance,  a  two-step  this  time.  Van  Buren 
sat  with  the  senator. 

''Don't  you  dance,  Van  Buren?"  the  senator 
asked.  ''  I  never  did  when  I  was  a  young  man,  and 
I  think  it  was  a  mistake.  I  wish  I  had  more  inter- 
ests of  that  kind.  It  enables  one  to  understand 
people  better,  but,  personally,  I  could  never  see  any- 
thing in  it." 

*'I  like  to  go  to  a  dance,"  Van  Buren  answered, 
"and  of  course  I  dance,  but  I  don't  care  much  for 
it.  It  was  hammered  into  me  at  school,  where 
dancing  was  part  of  the  drill,  and  I  never  got  over 
the  compulsory  feeling.  I  suppose  to  enjoy  a  dance 
at  its  best  it  must  be  a  matter  of  impulse  and  not 
mechanical." 

Judge  Barr,  of  the  Court  of  Appeals,  came  into 
the  box,  and  the  senator  introduced  Van  Buren  to 
the  judge.  *'  Go  and  make  yourself  agreeable  to 
the  ladies,"  said  he.  ''I  wouldn't  keep  you  on  an 
evening  like  this." 

Van  Buren  captured  Miss  Marlow  and  ousted 
the  captain. 

''Miss  Marlow,  don't  you  think  you  owe  me  sev- 
eral dances  that  I  should  have  had  at  the  assem- 
blies?" 

"  What  a  wholesale  request,  sir!  Hadn't  you  bet- 
ter begin  with  one?" 

14  199 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

"That  is  the  way  all  beginnings  are  made,  one 
step  at  a  time.  So  many  steps  make  one  dance,  so 
many  dances  make  one  pleasant  evening,  so  many 
pleasant  evenings  make  a  season,  so  many  seasons 
make — " 

"So  many  pleasant  recollections,  or  old  age,"  in- 
terrupted Miss  Marlow,  "it  is  too  soon  to  see  which. 
I  don't  think  you  really  want  to  dance." 

"  I  do.  I  want  one  dance,  and  I  don't  want  any 
one  else  to  have  the  others.  That  is  my  idea  of  an 
agreeable  evening,  from  a  man's  point  of  view.  Be 
with  one  girl,  don't  dance  too  much,  and  pray  the 
fates  that  she  may  graciously  talk  to  you  in  be- 
tween and  drive  the  other  men  away." 

"That's  not  a  girl's  idea.  She  would  never  re- 
gard the  evening  as  a  success  if  only  one  man  danced 
with  her." 

Van  Buren  waltzed  well,  a  little  too  mathemati- 
cally and  precisely,  but  he  had  a  good,  even  step, 
and  he  knew  how  to  hold  the  girl,  not  too  closely 
in  a  semi-embrace,  or  so  far  away  that  they  danced 
around  each  other,  but  with  an  even  support  that 
kept  their  steps  together. 

"You  must  have  danced  a  great  deal  at  school," 
commented  Van  Buren,  when  they  were  walking  to- 
gether after  the  waltz. 

"You  mean  that  I  try  to  lead  when  I  shouldn't. 
I  didn't  think  you  were  so  observant.  The  taller 
girls  at  school  had  to  dance  man,  and  lead.  I  have 
never  got  over  it.  You  didn't  seem  to  be  letting 
me  go  my  own  way,  though.  To  retaliate,  did  you 
learn  with  a  broomstick  or  a  chair  for  a  partner.  I 
know  that  military  academy  step,  and  I  can  tell  in 

200 


John   Van   Btjrcn,    Politician 

a  minute  when  I  have  a  partner  who  went  through 
that  drill." 

*'  I  confess.  We  did  learn  with  chairs.  It  was 
hard  to  get  anybody  to  dance  girl,  and  as  the  danc- 
ing-master could  only  take  one  at  a  time  the  rest 
of  us  danced  solemnly  alone  or  with  a  stout  chair  for 
partner." 

She  laughed. 

*'  You  are  rather  a  new  type,  Mr.  Van  Buren. 
You  aren't  really  a  politician,  and  I  am  sure  you 
aren't  a  reformer,  and  you  aren't  exactly  what  I 
would  call  a  lawyer,  and  you  don't  seem  enthu- 
siastic about  dancing.  How  are  you  to  be  clas- 
sified?" 

**  I  recall  your  interest  in  chickens.  Is  that  your 
attitude  to  men  animals?  Leghorns,  best  for  eggs, 
too  small  to  eat.  Brahmas,  good  to  eat,  too  few 
eggs.  Plymouth  Rocks,  general  purpose  fowl. 
Maybe  I'm  not  one  nor  the  other." 

"  Oh  no,  men  aren't  as  simple  as  that.  You  can't 
tell  the  breed  by  looking  at  them.  But  that's  noth- 
ing to  men's  attitude  towards  girls." 

**  Not  girls  in  the  plural — a  girl  or  The  Girl.  Every 
girl  is  different.  The  more  a  man  studies  girls  the 
less  he  knows  them.  Men  are  pretty  much  alike 
when  you  come  to  know  them:  like  the  different 
kinds  of  chickens,  they  are  all  descendants  from 
the  same  stock." 

''Aren't  all  women  daughters  and  granddaughters 
of  Eve?"  laughed  Miss  Marlow. 

''  More  or  less  distantly,  I  suppose.  But  there 
are  so  many  collateral  branches  and  relationships 
by  marriage  and  not  blood." 


John    Van    Btiren,    Politician 

It  was  a  major  this  time  who  took  Miss  Marlow 
away.  Van  Buren  drifted  over  to  the  chaperons 
and  chatted  a  while  with  them,  paying  especial  at- 
tention to  Airs.  Marlow,  and  then  left. 


XXII 

IgT   the   governor's   reception  the   next 

day    Van    Buren    saw    Miss    Marlow 

I  again.  There  were  two  receptions, 
one  in  the  executive  chamber  in  the 
^1^  Capitol  between  twelve  and  one, 
where  the  governor  and  his  staff  received  the 
judges,  the  members  of  the  legislature,  and  the 
State  officials;  the  other  a  general  reception  at  the 
executive  mansion  later  in  the  afternoon,  where 
the  wives  of  the  leading  State  officials  received  with 
the  governor's  wife  and  the  governor's  staff  acted 
as  ushers.  At  this  reception  Mrs.  Marlow  was  one 
of  the  receiving  party,  and  Miss  Marlow  had  her 
place  with  the  daughters  of  the  comptroller,  the 
State  treasurer,  the  attorney -general,  and  the  secre- 
tary of  state  at  the  tea-table. 

Van  Buren  went  to  both  receptions.  The  after- 
noon reception  he  had  attended  before,  as  it  was  a 
general  meeting-place  for  everybody  who  had  gone 
to  the  annual  Artillery  Ball  on  New -Year's  eve. 
The  governor's  mansion  is  on  the  most  southerly 
of  the  three  hills  which  make  Albany  resemble 
Richmond.  Its  architecture  is  political,  not  artis- 
tic, although  successive  governors  have  altered  the 
inside  until  it  is  fairly  comfortable.  There  are  many 
rooms  with  halls  and  folding  doors,  enabling  the 

203 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

first  floor  to  be  thrown  into  one  reception  hall. 
The  governor  and  Mrs.  Governor  stand  at  one  end 
of  the  hall.  The  lieutenant-governor  and  Mrs. 
Lieutenant-Governor,  the  comptroller  and  Mrs. 
Comptroller,  and  the  other  State  officials  and  their 
wives  are  ranged  in  a  semi-circle,  to  which  the  offi- 
cers of  the  governor's  staff  bring  the  general  popu- 
lation to  have  their  names  announced  by  the  gov- 
ernor's military  secretary,  who  is  ex-officio  a  colonel. 

At  the  other  end  of  the  main  hall  is  a  table  with 
eatables,  and  along  the  walls  are  tea,  chocolate,  and 
coffee  tables,  presided  over  by  the  daughters  of  the 
State  officials.  Back  of  the  main  hall  is  a  punch 
and  smoking  room,  where  the  men  politicians  cluster 
after  paying  their  respects  to  the  governor.  On 
the  stair  landing  is  the  band,  playing  the  campaign 
melodies  and  dances  and  marches. 

Almost  all  of  the  men  have  official  or  military 
titles.  The  titles  survive  the  office ;  once  a  commis- 
sioner always  a  commissioner,  like  the  colonels  and 
generals  of  the  governor's  staff.  Every  governor 
appoints  a  new  crop  of  them,  and  the  titles  outwear 
the  uniform  and  the  term  of  the  governor  who 
created  them.  The  nearness  of  several  United 
States  army  posts  makes  the  titles  of  lieutenant  and 
captain  rank  higher  than  colonel  or  general,  for  there 
is  nothing  lower  than  a  colonel  of  the  governor's 
staff,  and  a  lieutenant  or  a  captain  must  necessarily 
belong  to  a  real  military  organization. 

Miss  Marlow  was  again  dressed  effectively  in  red, 
and  again  without  jewelry  except  in  her  hair. 

"  I  am  beginning  to  realize  the  possibilities  of 
red,"  said  Van  Buren.     "You  are  teaching  me  how 

204 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

many  shades  there  are,  and  I  never  saw  you  in  two 
shades  that  are  an  exact  match.  I  admire  your 
knowledge  of  color  effects." 

"  It  is  purely  through  a  sense  of  duty,  Mr.  Van 
Buren,"  she  replied,  "and  you  should  not  com- 
ment on  it.  I  always  try  to  look  my  best.  We 
women  aren't  allowed  to  make  laws,  or  be  govern- 
ors or  assemblymen,  and  we  must  do  the  best  we 
can  in  our  own  way." 

"You  succeed  admirably." 

"  I  hope  I  do,  but  that  is  not  the  way  to  flatter  a 
woman.  You  really  need  instruction  in  other  things 
besides  politics.  Words  weren't  made  to  tell  such 
things  to  a  woman." 

"  Then  I'll  be  a  greater  sinner  by  asking  a  ques- 
tion. I've  noticed  you  don't  wear  rings  or  brace- 
lets or  the  usual  little  jewelry  of  most  girls." 

"  I  don't  hke  them.  Why  should  a  girl  wear  rings 
more  than  a  man?  Take  engagement  rings  and 
wedding  rings.  I  suppose  when  I  get  married  I 
shall  wear  one,  for  I  shouldn't  want  to  be  odd;  but 
why  should  a  girl  advertise  that  she  is  engaged  or 
married  when  a  man  doesn't?" 

"Maybe  the  man  should.  I've  known  French- 
men and  Germans  who  did." 

"  It  isn't  fair,  and  it  would  be  better  if  both  sexes 
did.  I  can  pick  out  every  engaged  girl  and  mar- 
ried woman  in  the  room,  but  how  can  one  tell  about 
the  men?" 

"Can't  you  tell  by  their  looks?" 

"You  have  a  guilty  look,  Mr.  Van  Buren.  If 
men  had  to  wear  rings  wouldn't  you  be  wearing  one 
now?" 

205 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

"I  should  like  nothing  better,"  Van  Buren  re- 
plied. "  I  suppose  I  would  require  the  consent  of 
the  girl.  Then  I  might  have  two  rings  made  exact- 
ly alike.  That  would  be  an  extension  of  your  plan. 
Not  only  would  the  rings  show  who  are  engaged, 
but  to  whom  one  is  engaged.  We  might  start  the 
custom  as  pioneers." 

"That  is  a  subtle  speech.  Am  I  expected  to 
answer  it?  It  sounds  something  to  me  like  a  re- 
vised version  of  the  old  Life  joke,  *  Miss  Jones,  if  I 
were  to  ask  you  to  marry  me,  what  would  you  say  V 
I'm  not  going  to  talk  to  you  any  more  about  it. 
Any  man  who  wants  to  propose  to  me  must  go 
down  on  his  knees  and  make  a  beautiful  speech, 
beginning,  '  Fair  maiden,  queen  of  my  heart !'  I 
insist  on  having  a  real  romance,  the  kind  you  read 
about  in  the  old-fashioned  novels." 

"I  fear  men  don't  go  down  on  their  knees  any 
more  except  in  novels." 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  them.  A  man  should 
go  down  on  his  knees  at  least  once  a  day  every  day 
of  his  life.  His  mother  taught  him  when  he  w^as  a 
little  boy,  and  it  would  be  better  for  him  if  he  kept 
it  up,  and  that  should  be  his  attitude  to  his  wife, 
too.  Women  put  up  with  too  much  from  men 
nowadays." 

"Yes.  We  should  return  to  the  old  days  when 
a  man  hired  a  horse,  a  good  weight-carrier,  dapple 
gray  in  color,  and  warranted  true  and  kind  under 
the  saddle,  and  pranced  up  to  the  girl's  house,  and 
carried  her  off  to  some  vague  place  where  they 
lived  happily  forever  after,  without  telephones,  gas- 
ranges,  plumbers,   steam  heat,  and  other  conven- 

206 


John    Van    Burcn,    Politician 

iences  regarded  as  rather  necessary  these  days. 
Life  must  have  been  delightfully  inexpensive  in 
those  times.  The  stone  castles  were  always  rent 
free,  the  servant  problem  hadn't  arisen,  and  the 
commutation  ticket  was  an  undiscovered  device." 

*'  Bravo,  you've  become  enthusiastic  at  last. 
Every  man  has  his  weakness.  Go  on  riding  your 
hobby-horse.     Nobody  is  content  without  one." 

''What  is  yours?" 

'*  I  told  you  mine,  only  you  won't  let  me  ride  it 
and  show  its  paces." 

**We  might  try  the  experiment  of  driving  our 
hobby-horses  in  a  pair." 

''  Hobbies  aren't  broken  double.  They  only  go 
single." 

'*  Perhaps  they  would  trot  together  once  they  got 
better  acquainted." 

The  army  captain  had  been  hovering  around  and 
stopped  the  conversation  by  coming  for  his  cup  of 
tea. 

From  the  governor's  reception  Van  Buren  went 
to  the  Holland  Club,  where  the  New-Year's  punch 
was  hospitably  flowing,  and  then  took  a  trolley  car 
to  Schenectady.  His  mother  was  waiting  for  him, 
and  they  had  their  New- Year's  dinner  together. 

He  had  promised  to  take  his  mother  and  Amy  to 
the  opening  of  the  legislative  session.  So  they  ac- 
companied him,  and  saw  the  Bald  Eagle  of  West- 
chester elected  speaker  by  a  party  vote  over  As- 
semblyman Peters;  the  lottery  of  seats,  the 
members  choosing  their  places  in  the  order  their 
names  came  out  of  a  box;  the  secretary  to  the 
governor  appearing   with   the   governor's   message 

207 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

after  a  committee  had  been  appointed  to  notify  the 
governor  of  the  assembly's  readiness  to  be  com- 
municated with.  Then  the  assembly  adjourned 
after  a  resolution  to  print  the  governor's  message 
in  different  languages  had  been  unanimously  adopt- 
ed. Van  Buren  took  his  mother  and  cousin  to  lunch 
in  the  Holland  Club  annex. 

*'  It  was  just  like  a  play  on  the  stage,"  commented 
Amy,  "  and  it  was  so  appropriate  for  General  Husted 
to  wear  a  dress  suit,  even  if  it  was  daytime.  I  like 
men  to  dress  up  on  formal  occasions.  I  am  so  glad 
I  went.  I  understand  why  the  newspapers  call  him 
the  Bald  Eagle.  He  is  very  bald,  isn't  he?  I  think 
baldness  is  becoming  to  a  man  of  his  age.  It  goes 
so  well  with  a  dress  suit,  and  he  is  so  much  older 
and  better-looking  than  Assemblyman  Peters.  He 
should  be  elected.  Why  did  you  vote  for  Mr. 
Peters  ?  And  the  clerk  seemed  to  know  how  every- 
body was  going  to  vote.  I  saw  a  man  mark  on  a 
sheet  of  paper  before  you  answered.  Oh,  I  forgot. 
I  suppose  all  the  votes  were  sold,  and  the  clerk  knew 
who  bought  the  most  votes  and  had  it  all  dowTi  on 
that  paper,  and  just  called  the  names  to  make  sure 
there  was  no  mistake.  What  a  waste  of  money  it 
must  be  for  the  man  who  buys  the  votes  and  doesn't 
get  enough?" 

Mrs.  Van  Buren  looked  shocked.  "Where  did 
you  get  such  notions,  Amy?  Van  w^ould  never 
dream  of  selling  his  vote.  He  voted  for  Mr.  Peters 
because  the  Democratic  caucus  nominated  him  and 
Van  is  a  Democratic  assemblyman." 

"What  a  pity!  I  thought  Van  was  paid  every 
time  he  voted.     That's  what  the  Tribune  says  about 

208 


John    Van    Burent    Politician 

Tammany  assemblymen,  and  I  didn't  know  Van 
was  a  Democrat.  I  thought  he  was  a  Tammany 
man.  You  must  tell  me  all  about  the  caucus,  Van, 
and  why  they  call  it  that,  and  what  it  does." 

"You're  getting  on  too  fast.  Amy,"  laughed  Van 
Buren.  **  Don't  try  to  learn  everything  at  once  or 
you  won't  have  anything  left  to  occupy  your  spare 
time.    You've  learned  politics  enough  for  one  day." 

"Oh,  Van,"  she  exclaimed,  "I  am  becoming  so 
wise !  I  read  in  a  magazine  about  the  French  Depu- 
ties, and  I  have  a  book  on  the  Growth  of  the  English 
Parliament,  and  I  found  Bryce's  American  Common- 
wealth in  the  library,  and  the  Tribune  tells  me  all 
about  the  wickedness  of  Tammany.  I  am  reading 
them  all,  and  you  -must  explain  what  everything 
means,  and  then  we'll  talk  politics  all  the  time  and 
I'll  understand  everything  you're  interested  in.  Do 
you  shout  at  the  man  who  stands  up  and  talks  the 
way  the  French  do?  I  suppose  men  would  take 
off  their  hats  in  Parliament  only  somebody  might 
sit  on  them,  or  perhaps  they  might  be  stolen.  The 
Tribune  says  there  are  Tammany  members  of  the 
legislature  who  would  take  a  red  -  hot  stove.  I 
suppose  they'd  want  it  for  the  poor  families  in 
New  York  who  are  suffering  so  from  the  cold.  If 
they  did  I  wouldn't  blame  them.  They  should  heat 
the  Capitol  with  a  furnace,  anyway.  How  do  men 
sell  their  votes  and  what  do  they  do  with  the 
money  ?  What  is  your  vote  worth  ?  Is  it  the  same 
price  every  day,  or  does  it  fluctuate?  If  I  had 
a  bill  I  wanted  passed  I'd  wait  until  some  day  when 
votes  were  cheap.  Don't  you  think  I've  learned  a 
great  deal?" 

209 


John   Van    Btircn,    Politician 

'*  You  certainly  have,  but  you  mustn't  work  too 
hard  at  it  or  try  and  learn  everything  at  once,  for 
then  you  would  know  more  about  politics  than  I  do, 
and  there  wouldn't  be  anything  left  for  me  to  tell 
you." 

"  Oh,  I  never  could  keep  pace  with  you.  Van.'* 

"  If  you  are  going  to  apply  the  Schenectady  point 
of  view  to  New  York  City  politics  there  will  be  a 
vacuum,"  Van  Buren  wxnt  on ;  "  there  isn't  anybody 
in  New  York  whose  father  and  grandfather  were 
bom  there.  Less  than  one-sixth  of  the  people  had 
American-bom  fathers,  and  most  of  these  were  bom 
outside  of  New  York  City.  The  Germans,  the  Irish, 
the  Italians,  and  the  Jews  all  outnumber  those  of 
American  descent." 

"But  what  about  the  nice  people?"  said  Amy. 
''There  must  be  nice  people  in  New  York.  I  don't 
mean  the  Four  Hundred  of  the  Sunday  newspapers, 
but  men  and  women  with  birth  and  breeding,  artists 
and  authors  and  their  friends." 

"I've  heard  of  a  weekly  literary  gathering  in  a 
basement  off  Sixth  Avenue,  where  the  women  have 
no  chaperons  and  smoke  cigarettes.  Do  you  mean 
them?" 

"You  know  well  enough  I  don't,"  retorted  Amy. 
"  I  mean  the  people  of  the  academies  and  the  books 
and  the  magazines.  They  come  from  all  over  the 
country  and  settle  in  New  York.  Why  don't  you 
drop  Tammany  politics,  and  write  a  book,  or  paint 
a  picture,  or  something  of  that  sort?" 

"That's  a  new  ambition.  Which  do  you  prefer. 
Amy,  a  portrait  of  a  purple  cow  or  a  volume  on  the 
world-wide  influence  of  a  molecule?" 


John    Van    Btircnt  Politician 

"You  never  take  me  seriously.  I  don't  mean 
absurd  things.  If  you  want  to  do  good  and  be 
famous,  write  a  book  that  everybody  will  read  and 
be  influenced  by." 

"Sermons,  poetry,  or  a  love-story?" 

"  Neither,  though  all  the  books  I  like  have  some 
love  in  them." 

"That's  what  a  publisher  told  me  the  other  day. 
He  says  men  don't  read  books  except  the  ones  they 
require  in  their  business  or  profession,  so  that  books 
to  sell  must  be  written  for  women,  and  women  won't 
buy  a  book  without  love." 

"  Books  should  be  true  to  life,  and  how  can  one 
live  one's  life  without  love?" 

"Is  that  a  proposal?"  he  laughed.  "If  it  is  it 
is  immediately  accepted." 

"It's  nothing  of  the  kind,"  she  snapped. 

"  I  didn't  know  but  that  your  strong  advocacy 
of  women's  rights  in  politics  might  lead  to  its  nat- 
ural sequence." 

"  I  don't  care  to  talk  to  you.  I  won't  be  laughed 
at." 

"  It  isn't  laughable  at  all.  I  mean  it.  I  believe 
it  is  a  fact  that  more  proposals  are  made  by  women 
than  men,  although  the  man  may  not  always  be 
aware  of  it.  Anyhow,  I  am  sure  that  most  mar- 
riages result  from  the  girl's  proposing." 

"What  kind  of  a  girl  do  you  fancy  her?" 

"  She  would  probably  be  pretty  sure  of  her  m^an, 
and  then  she  would  do  it  in  some  feminine  way 
that  would  make  him  think  he  was  doing  it.  I 
never  heard  of  a  man  proposing  the  way  they  do 
in  novels." 

211 


XXIII 

iHE  local  elections  in  Albany  County- 
were  held  the  second  week  in  Feb- 
ruary, and  for  want  of  legislative 
occupation  Van  Buren  spent  some 
spare  time  watching  the  workings  of 
Albany  local  politics. 

Before  election  day  both  sides  were  busy  stuff- 
ing the  registry  lists.  According  to  law,  no  man 
could  vote  whose  name  was  not  enrolled,  and  he 
was  supposed  to  appear  personally  before  the  elec- 
tion board  and  qualify  as  a  voter.  No  matter  how 
friendly  disposed  the  election  officers  might  be  on 
election  day,  they  could  not  well  show  a  total  vote 
larger  than  the  registry.  To  inflate  the  registry, 
there  was  a  reciprocal  arrangement  between  the 
politicians  of  Albany,  Troy,  and  Cohoes.  A  gang 
of  Trojans  would  make  the  circuit  of  the  Albany 
polling  -  places  and  register  various  names  taken 
from  the  Troy  directory,  with  fictitious  Albany  ad- 
dresses, then  they  would  go  to  Cohoes  and  repeat 
the  operation.  Albanians  and  Cohoesiers  would 
reciprocate  in  like  manner.  The  price  paid  was 
fifty  cents  per  name,  and  an  industrious  rounder 
could  register  forty  to  seventy  names  in  a  day. 
There  were  several  registration  days  and  the  list 
was  considerably  swollen.     In  this  regard  of  pay- 

212 


John    Van    Baren,    Politician 

ing  strict  respect  to  the  forms  of  law,  the  Albany 
politicians  rather  prided  themselves,  and  spoke 
rather  derogatorily  of  Philadelphia  politicians  as 
violators  of  professional  etiquette,  because  in  Phila- 
delphia they  do  not  go  to  the  trouble  of  actual 
personal  registration,  but  simply  make  the  election 
officers,  without  additional  bribes,  put  on  the  names 
of  cats  and  dogs  and  fictitious  persons. 

On  election  day  came  the  physical  difficulty  of 
polling  this  fictitious  vote.  The  contest  had  be- 
come personal  and  financial.  The  great  corpora- 
tions of  Albany  and  Troy  were  furnishing  the  money 
on  one  hand  and  the  office-holders  on  the  other. 
Men  stood  outside  the  polling-places  with  folded  bills 
between  their  fingers,  like  the  ticket  -  seller  at  the 
circus  or  the  speculator  in  front  of  a  theatre,  and  the 
floaters  auctioned  off  their  franchises  to  the  highest 
bidder.  The  common  council  and  the  board  of  super- 
visors were  at  stake,  as  well  as  the  two  mayors,  and 
in  the  close  wards  votes  went  up  as  high  as  fifteen 
and  twenty  dollars. 

Van  Buren  dropped  into  the  polling  -  place  on 
Washington  Avenue,  a  few  doors  from  the  Holland 
Club,  and  watched  the  process.  There  was  a  line 
of  voters  reaching  out  to  the  street.  A  ragged  boy 
at  the  head  of  the  line  had  just  given  the  name 
James  Stevens  Thomson,  92  Elk  Street,  when  from 
the  rear  of  the  line  stepped  Mr.  Thomson  and 
challenged. 

*'You  can't  vote  on  my  name.  Everybody  in 
this  room  knows  me." 

The  repeater  was  nonplussed.  The  chairman 
of  the  election  board  turned  to  him  and  said  that 

213 


John    Van    Barent    Politician 

his  vote  was  challenged  and  he  would  have  to 
swear  it  in.  He  did,  and  voted,  while  James  Stevens 
Thomson,  Esq.,  junior  member  of  the  firm  of  Hays, 
Stevens  &  Thomson,  member  of  the  Holland  and 
a  number  of  New  York  clubs,  was  shouting  his 
protests.  Nobody  in  the  room  interfered,  and  the 
policeman  standing  by  saw  that  the  forms  of  the 
election  law  were  observed. 

In  the  sixteenth  ward  in  the  Willett  Street 
election  district,  facing  the  park,  Van  Buren  dis- 
covered that  the  high  price  of  votes  had  attracted 
individual  repeaters.  One  of  them,  a  printer  named 
Jimmy  Owen,  had  a  list  of  names  of  his  own.  He 
went  in  and  voted  on  four  of  them  in  succession 
without  leaving  the  polling  -  place,  swearing  in  his 
vote  after  each  challenge.  The  chairman  of  the 
election  board  became  disgusted  with  this  greedy 
and  flagrant  breach  of  political  etiquette,  and  when 
Owen  offered  to  vote  on  the  fifth  name  the  chair- 
man indignantly  said,  "  Jimmy,  you've  voted  enough 
here ;  if  you  want  to  vote  some  more  go  somewhere 
else  and  vote." 

In  the  afternoon  Van  Buren  went  to  Cohoes  and 
stood  on  the  sidewalk  watching  the  visitors  from 
Troy  vote.  A  Cohoes  fireman  had  them  in  tow  and 
was  supplying  the  names  and  sending  them  into  the 
polling-place.  While  Van  Buren  was  looking  on  a 
special  policeman,  with  a  large  badge  and  a  boy's 
baseball  bat  for  a  club,  strolled  up  to  Van  Buren 
and  said, 

"G'wan  and  vote." 

"  I  don't  live  here.  I'm  just  looking  on,"  re- 
plied Van  Buren,  deprecatingly. 

214 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

"Aw,  g'wan  and  vote." 

"  But  I'm  a  member  of  the  assembly  from  New 
York.  I  just  came  up  to  see  how  you  hold  elec- 
tions here." 

**  If  youse  ain't  goin'  to  vote,  clear  out,"  the 
special  policeman  said,  in  disgust.  "We  ain't  no 
use  for  gents  what  t'inks  demselves  too  good  to 
"vote."  And  he  swung  the  baseball  bat  threaten- 
ingly. 

Knowing  that  Senator  Marlow  would  be  inter- 
ested in  a  personal  account  of  the  local  election, 
and  drawn  by  an  irresistible  impulse  to  be  in  Miss 
Marlow's  company,  Van  Buren  called  at  the  Elk 
Street  house  on  his  way  back  from  Cohoes  to  the 
club.  Mrs.  Marlow  was  having  one  of  her  semi- 
formal  teas  in  the  main  library.  An  English  bishop 
was  visiting  her,  and  he  was  receiving  informally 
some  of  the  people  Mrs.  Marlow  thought  it  desir- 
able to  have  him  meet.  Miss  Marlow  was  really  glad 
to  see  Van  Buren,  and  showed  it;  it  also  gave  her  a 
chance  to  escape  the  visiting  bishop  and  his  friends. 
Van  Buren  knew  the  other  callers  only  slightly,  and, 
after  being  presented  to  the  P2nglish  bishop,  he 
crossed  the  room  to  where  a  young  curate  was  talk- 
ing to  Miss  Marlow.  The  curate  was  a  good  deal  of 
a  bore,  and  Miss  Marlow  turned  to  Van  Buren  with 
rehef. 

"I'm  so  glad  you  came  in,  Mr.  Van  Buren,"  she 
said.  "  I  must  have  somebody  to  say  ungracious 
things  to.  You're  in  politics,  and  you  won't  mind, 
will  you?  Politics  and  politicians  are  bad  enough, 
but  I'd  rather  talk  politics  than  religion  or  theol- 
ogy, whichever  High  Church  and  Low  Church  comes 
IS  215 


John    Van    Baren,    Politician 

under.  I'm  always  making  blunders.  The  dear  bish- 
op— he  is  a  fine-looking  man,  isn't  he? — is  visiting 
the  United  States  to  study  the  effect  of  the  severance 
of  Church  and  State.  He  says  English  politicians 
so  interfere  with  the  revival  and  perpetuation  of  the 
ancient  liturgical  forms  that  he  really  believes  the 
Church  must  come  to  the  point  w^here  it  puts  politics 
and  political  things  aside.  By  '  things '  I  suppose 
he  means  the  politicians  who  don't  agree  with  him." 

"  I  fear  I  am  not  up  on  religious  matters  as  much 
as  I  should  be.  I  believe  in  the  religion  I  was 
taught  by  my  mother  when  I  was  a  small  boy, 
but  I  haven't  kept  it  up  as  I  should.  If  it  weren't 
for  mothers,  I  think  religion  would  die  out."  Van 
Buren  was  not  accustomed  to  talk  religion  and 
changed  the  subject  to  the  incidents  of  the  local 
election. 

**  Father  will  be  in  soon  and  you  can  tell  them 
to  him,"  Miss  Marlow  said.  "I  couldn't  go  for 
him  to-day  and  he  will  be  late.  He  is  always  late 
unless  I  call  for  him.  Really,  Mr.  Van  Buren,  I 
am  not  interested  in  politics  as  much  as  you  seem 
to  think.  I  am  interested  in  father  and  his  inter- 
ests, but  outside  of  that  I'd  rather  talk  of  anything 
except  politics.  I  hear  so  much  politics.  Talk 
psychology  or  golf  or  books  or  something  serious. 
I  prefer  serious  talk  this  afternoon." 

"We  might  discuss  our  respective  egos.  I  never 
knew  I  had  one  until  senior  year  at  college,  and  the 
fact  of  its  existence  hasn't  occurred  to  me  since,  so 
we  might  investigate  and  find  out  what  has  become 
of  it." 

"  They  didn't  take  me  as  far  as  the  ego  at  school. 
216 


John    Van    Barent  Politician 

I  believe  such  things  are  reserved  for  men's  colleges. 
The  ego  and  calculus  are  two  educational  heights  I 
have  never  reached.  Some  day  I  intend  to  look 
them  up  in  a  cyclopedia,  but  I  don't  know  that  I 
ever  shall.  It  is  always  good  to  have  something 
to  look  forward  to." 

"  'Anticipation  is  the  thief  of  time,'  to  give  a  little 
twist  to  an  old  proverb.  If  one  doesn't  do  a  thing 
when  he  thinks  of  it  first  he  is  less  likely  to  do  it 
when  he  thinks  of  it  again." 

"What  an  easy-going  man  you  are!  Don't  you 
ever  quarrel?" 

"  With  myself  often,  but  never  with  any  one  else 
if  I  can  avoid  it.  I  might  have  more  friends  if  I 
did.     An  honest  fight  often  makes  a  good  friend." 

**  Isn't  that  plagiarized  from  a  school  writing- 
book?     I've  heard  something  like  it  before." 

"Of  course  you  have — everything  has  been  said 
before.  Novelty  is  not  the  saying  of  something 
new,  but  the  putting  of  it  differently." 

"Have  you  a  little  book  of  aphorisms  in  which 
you  put  down  these  clever  sayings?" 

"  No,  my  verbal  memory  isn't  good  enough.  I 
rely  solely  on  the  inspiration  of  the  moment.  You 
are  an  excellent  mentor.  Miss  Marlow." 

"That's  not  at  all  nicely  said.  You  speak  as  if 
I  were  a  bronchial  remedy." 

"  You  would  doubtless  be  an  influence  for  good  in 
any  sphere." 

"Fie!  Trying  to  be  sarcastic.  You  don't  do  it 
well.  Men's  sarcasms  are  like  the  blow  of  a  club. 
The  only  really  refined  social  sarcasm  is  feminine." 

The  senator  came  in  just  then,  and,  after  greet- 
217 


John    Van    Barent   Politician 

ing  the  bishop  and  his  callers,  retired  to  the  li- 
brary. "You  go  in  and  talk  politics  to  him,"  Miss 
Marlow  said  to  Van  Buren.  "  I  must  return  to  the 
clergy." 

Van  Buren  began  to  tell  the  senator  the  inci- 
dents of  the  local  election.  The  senator  stopped 
him.  **  Don't  tell  me.  I  don't  want  to  hear  or 
know  anything  about  it.  These  local  factional 
fights  are  the  curse  of  the  party.  Both  sides  try 
to  drag  me  in,  and  I  won't  have  it.  What  a  waste 
of  money  and  effort.  They  fight  harder  to  elect 
an  alderman  than  a  President,  and  this  business 
of  repeaters  and  falsifying  the  returns  is  all  wrong. 
I'm  not  a  purist  or  a  reformer  in  politics;  I  believe 
there  is  a  legitimate  use  for  a  campaign  fund,  and 
money  is  a  good  thing  to  have  on  election  day,  if 
it  is  handled  quietly  and  not  stolen,  and  its  legiti- 
mate use  is,  perhaps,  a  little  beyond  the  strict  let- 
ter of  the  law.  In  that  way  politics  is  something 
like  poker ;  it  is  against  the  law  to  gamble  for  money, 
and  it  is  no  more  unlawful  to  cheat  at  poker  than 
to  gamble.  But  there  is  all  the  difference  in  the 
world  between  gambling  and  cheating,  and  every- 
body so  regards  it.  That  is  the  way  with  my  elec- 
tion code  of  morals.  I  believe  that  every  vote 
should  be  cast  by  a  duly  qualified  voter  and  hon- 
estly counted,  but  I  am  in  favor  of  using  all  means 
to  induce  the  duly  qualified  voter  to  vote  my  way. 
That  is  what  a  party  organization  is  for.  How  are 
matters  in  the  legislature?" 

Van  Buren  explained  that  nothing  seemed  to  be 
going  on;  no  bills  of  importance  had  been  acted 
upon,  and  the  daily  sessions  were  perfunctory. 

218 


John    Van    Btiren,   Politician 

"That  is  generally  the  way  during  the  first  few 
weeks,"  the  senator  told  him.  "The  most  impor- 
tant measures  come  up  the  last  days  of  the  session, 
and  shortness  of  time  prevents  full  discussion.  The 
early  days  of  the  session  are  spent  by  the  promoters 
of  legislation  in  arranging  for  the  votes.  They 
haven't  been  to  you  because  you  are  a  dangerous 
possibility,  and  more  likely  to  break  loose  and  at- 
tack them  than  not." 

"I'm  not  looking  to  attack  anybody.  I'm  not 
after  notoriety,  but  experience." 

"There  is  no  telling  what  you  may  do  when  the 
opportunity  presents  itself.  My  advice  is  to  make 
a  good  record  and  come  back  next  year.  Two 
terms  are  enough.  You  may  tire  of  politics  by 
that  time.  If  you  don't,  keep  in  politics  and  out 
of  office.  I  sometimes  regret  I  am  in  office ;  a  man 
is  so  much  freer  without." 


XXIV 

'AN  BUREN  settled  down  to  the  busi- 
ness of  the  legislative  session  and  was 
appointed  on  the  judiciary  commit- 
tee and  the  committee  on  miscella- 
neous franchises.  It  came  about  in 
this  way.  General  Husted  had  him  to  lunch  one 
day,  and  asked  him  what  committees  he  would  pre- 
fer. Van  Buren  asked  for  the  judiciary,  as  that 
seemed  the  most  professional  of  the  committees. 
The  Speaker  replied  that  most  of  the  assemblymen 
who  were  lawyers  preferred  to  be  on  the  judiciary 
committee,  and  he  would  appoint  Van  Buren,  but 
there  was  another  committee  of  much  more  impor- 
tance on  which  he  wanted  Van  Buren  to  serve,  the 
committee  on  miscellaneous  franchises. 

"You  see,"  explained  General  Husted,  with  that 
captivatingly  discriminating  frankness  which  al- 
ways flattered  the  recipients,  "the  railroad  and  the 
insurance  committees  are,  of  course,  made  up  of 
friends  of  the  large  interests  involved.  The  purely 
political  committees  follow  the  suggestions  of  their 
party  leaders.  That  eliminates  a  great  body  of 
legislation  from  possible  scandal.  There  remain 
certain  interests  not  so  well  developed  along  politi- 
cal lines,  and  not  so  well  established  in  their  alliances 
and  methods  of  procedure,  which  the  boys  some- 

220 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

times  break  loose  over.  As  speaker  I  am  naturally 
desirous  that  everything  should  be  seemly  and 
decorous,  and  that  there  should  be  as  little  as  pos- 
sible for  public  scandal  to  dwell  upon.  I  knew  your 
father  years  ago,  when  I  first  came  to  the  assembly, 
and  I  know  that  a  man  like  you  is  above  financial 
considerations.  Of  course  I  expect  any  young  man 
to  be  careful  of  his  professional  and  political  fut- 
ure, but  the  most  foolish  thing  a  man  starting  out 
in  politics  can  do  is  to  sell  his  vote  for  cash.  Of 
course  I  know  no  such  influence  could  appeal  to 
you.  To  make  friends  who  will  aid  one  in  after  life 
is  judicious.  I  myself  have  always  tried  to  serve  my 
friends.  I  assume  you  will  also  do  so.  I  am  going 
to  put  you  on  the  committee  on  miscellaneous 
franchises,  and  all  I  ask  is  that  you  consult  me 
as  your  friend,  an  older  and  more  experienced  man 
in  legislative  matters,  whenever  anything  of  impor- 
tance comes  before  your  committee." 

Van  Buren  thanked  him  and  wondered  what  it 
all  meant.  Clearly  the  speaker  was  giving  more 
thought  to  the  committee  on  miscellaneous  fran- 
chises than  to  the  judiciary  or  appropriations  com- 
mittees, and  the  personal  consideration  was  flat- 
tering. 

It  was  February  before  Van  Buren's  committee 
met.  The  chairman  of  the  committee  on  miscel- 
laneous franchises  was  a  veteran  legislator  who  rep- 
resented a  Republican  district  of  Ulster  County. 
He  was  superintendent  of  a  Sunday-school  at  home, 
and  his  Albany  reputation  was  that  of  a  stem  sup- 
porter of  the  Sunday  laws  and  the  penal  code,  and 
also  the  best  man  to  look  after  corporate  interests. 

221 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

A  number  of  bills  had  been  referred  to  the  com- 
mittee when  Elder  Perkins  called  the  members 
together  and  submitted  the  bills  to  them.  He  was 
especially  gracious  and  benevolent  to  the  new 
members. 

*' These  are  the  measures  which  so  far  have  been 
submitted  to  us,"  he  said.  "So  far  as  I  can  see, 
there  is  no  haste  in  considering  them.  Read  them 
over  carefully  and  digest  their  contents.  Some 
may  be  wholly  good,  others  wholly  bad,  the  mass 
indifferent.  Let  us  winnow  out  the  wheat  from 
the  chaff.  I  take  it  for  granted  that  we  are  all  here 
solely  in  the  interests  of  our  constituents  and  the 
State,  and  that  our  action  will  be  such  as  shall  best 
conserve  those  interests." 

One  of  the  old  members  almost  snickered. 

"  The  old  man  has  made  that  speech  every  session 
I've  been  with  him  on  this  committee." 

"It  seems  to  me  to  be  very  good,"  replied  Van 
Buren. 

"  Right  you  are.  He'll  digest  their  contents.  If 
the  people  behind  them  don't  produce  the  right 
kind  of  digestive  pills  some  of  those  bills  won't  be 
digested  this  session." 

The  newspapers  had  been  making  some  stir  about 
one  of  the  bills  known  as  the  Iroquois  Power  Bill, 
introduced  by  Assemblyman  Jones,  of  Herkimer 
County,  who  kept  a  country  store  on  the  banks  of 
the  Erie  Canal.  This  bill,  in  general  terms,  gave 
the  Iroquois  Power  Company  the  right  to  take  and 
use  the  waters  of  such  streams,  lakes,  and  ponds  as 
might  be  advantageous  for  the  production  of  power, 
and  to  utilize  and  sell  the  power  and  surplus  water 

222 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

to  such  customers  as  it  might  find.  Van  Buren  had 
read  the  bill  a  number  of  times  and  could  see  no 
reason  for  the  newspaper  talk  against  it.  The  same 
bill  had  been  before  two  previous  legislatures  and 
had  failed  of  passage.  Elder  Perkins  had  opposed  it 
both  years. 

Hovering  around  the  corridors,  committee-rooms, 
and  document-rooms,  Van  Buren  often  saw  several 
prosperous  -  looking  men,  who  were  pointed  out  to 
him  as  lobbyists,  and  with  whose  names  he  became 
familiar  through  the  newspapers.  Gradually  they 
had  come  to  bow  to  him,  but  none  had  ever  asked 
him  to  vote  or  not  to  vote,  or  even  spoken  to  him  of 
legislation.  The  majority  of  these  men  lived  at  the 
Delavan,  and  their  rooms  were  used  as  general 
poker  and  supper  rooms.  Everybody  was  welcome 
to  eat,  drink,  and  gamble,  and  the  losers,  if  they  did 
not  push  their  losses  too  heavily,  were  not  bothered 
about  payment.  Van  Buren  drifted  in  to  the  little 
poker  games  from  time  to  time  and  saw  no  harm 
in  them.  The  stakes  were  not  heavy,  the  suppers 
were  not  heavy,  and  there  was  little  talk  of  legisla- 
tion. 

The  king  of  the  lobby.  Colonel  Jim  PhilHps,  Van 
Buren  never  saw,  and  would  not  have  known  of  his 
existence  except  for  the  newspapers,  which  said  he 
had  charge  of  the  Iroquois  Power  Bill  and  was 
going  to  pass  it.  Colonel  Phillips  lived  at  the 
Delavan,  occupying  a  good  part  of  one  floor.  His 
meals  were  served  in  his  private  dining-room.  He 
had  an  office  force,  and  a  set  of  books  which  were 
reputed  to  contain  the  private  records  of  legislation 
for  twenty  years  and  the  story  of  the  life  and  weak- 

223 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

nesses  of  every  member  of  the  legislature  during 
that  time.  Several  of  the  lobbyists  Van  Buren  had 
seen  hanging  around  the  Capitol  were  reputed  to 
be  Colonel  PhilHps's  runners  and  messengers.  One 
of  these,  Fred  Tree,  had  got  into  the  habit  of  passing 
the  time  of  day  with  Van  Buren,  but  that  was  all. 
It  was  rather  a  disappointment  to  him  that  none 
of  the  lobbyists  approached  him  on  legislative 
matters.  Not  that  he  desired  bribes  to  be  offered 
him,  but  that  his  legislative  life  would  be  incom- 
plete without  experiencing  every  phase  of  it. 

Towards  the  last  of  February,  however,  the  legis- 
lature became  more  active.  Minor  bills  were  called 
up  for  passage,  among  them  the  bill  to  remove  the 
menagerie  from  Central  Park  to  one  of  the  new 
parks  near  the  Bronx.  The  assemblyman  from 
the  Central  Park  district,  T.  Percy  Horsford,  Esq., 
was  the  son  of  a  man  who  had  become  rich  through 
Horsford's  Holesome  Flousehold,  a  universal  remedy 
for  family  ailments,  the  dose  varying  from  a  tea- 
spoonful  for  a  child  to  a  tablespoonful  for  a  man. 
Mrs.  T.  Percy  Horsford  was  the  daughter  of  an 
impoverished  Knickerbocker  family  who  were  more 
prominent  socially  in  the  last  century  than  in  this 
one.  T.  Percy  himself  was  nominated  to  the  as- 
sembly through  the  use  of  his  father's  check-book, 
and  had  taken  up  politics,  as  he  explained,  "  to 
elevate  it  from  the  disrepute  into  which  it  had 
fallen  through  being  left  wholly  to  the  lower  classes." 
He  frequently  reminded  his  associates  of  his  object, 
and  in  his  speeches  prided  himself  on  his  repre- 
senting the  "better  element."  This  menagerie  bill 
was  introduced  by  him,  and  its  passage  was  desired 

224 


John    Van    Btirent    Politician 

by  his  constituents  who  lived  on  the  Fifth  Avenue 
side  of  the  park  and  were  annoyed  by  the  crowds 
and  the  animals.  His  fellow  -  assemblymen,  with 
whom  T.  Percy,  as  they  called  him,  was  not  popu- 
lar, were  having  a  little  fun  over  the  bill,  worrying 
him  by  offering  amendments.  Assemblyman  Kee- 
gan,  of  Judge  Murphy's  district,  the  total -abstain- 
ing saloon-keeper  whom  Van  Buren  had  first  met 
on  the  Tammany  train,  and  who  had  stood  by  the 
judge  when  he  was  deposed,  offered  an  amendment 
striking  out  the  words  "Bronx  Park"  and  insert- 
ing ''Paradise  Park."  Paradise  Park  is  a  little  tri- 
angle of  dead  grass  and  two  dead  saplings  at  the 
junction  of  the  streets  that  make  Five  Points,  and 
is  in  the  heart  of  Assemblyman  Keegan's  district. 

Although  opposed  by  T.  Percy,  as  were  all  the 
other  amendments,  this  amendment  was  adopted. 
Boiling  with  indignation,  T.  Percy  moved  to  recon- 
sider the  vote  by  which  the  amendment  was  car- 
ried, and  explained  to  the  rural  assemblymen  that 
Paradise  Park  was  not  a  park  at  all,  and  had  not 
room  for  one  of  the  many  buildings  which  held  the 
animals.  There  were  no  facilities  for  the  care  of 
the  animals,  and  the  zoological  society  in  charge  of 
them  wanted  the  transfer  made  to  Bronx  Park. 

Assemblyman  Keegan  had  offered  the  amend- 
ment in  jest  and  explained  that  he  was  willing  to 
withdraw^  it.  "  Me  constituents  would  like  to  have 
those  animals  where  dey  could  see  dem  without  pay- 
ing street  -  car  fare,  but  mebbe  if  dey  was  down 
our  way  dey  wouldn't  last  long.  I  understand 
why  the  gentleman  from  the  terrapin  district  doesn't 
want  dem  animals.     His  constituents  is  dudes,  and 

225 


John    Van    Burcnt    Politician 

if  dem  animals — dem  elephants  and  tigers  and 
rhinoceroses — was  to  break  loose  in  the  gentleman's 
district  dey  would  eat  up  the  honorable  gentle- 
man's constituents,  and  dere  would  be  no  constit- 
uents left  to  return  him  to  this  honorable  body, 
while  if  dose  wild  animals  was  to  break  loose  in  me 
district,  me  constituents  would  chaw  dem  up." 

Keegan  raised  himself  on  his  toes  and  brought 
down  his  clinched  fists  in  illustration  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  his  constituents  would  demolish  the 
animals. 

Mr.  Horsford  was  much  annoyed  at  his  remarks, 
and,  rising,  said  that  "the  hoodlum  who  fitly  rep- 
resents Five  Points  needs  instruction  in  the 
requisites  of  ordinary  civility.  My  constituents 
are  gentlemen  whose  fathers  and  grandfathers  and 
great-grandfathers  were  gentlemen  when  the  hood- 
lum's constituents  were  roaming  the  bogs  of  Ire- 
land or  the  mountains  of  Sicily,  ignorant  alike  of 
the  alphabet  and  the  existence  of  the  United  States." 

There  was  a  hush  in  the  assembly  at  this  outbreak. 
Assemblyman  Keegan  was  personally  popular  with 
his  fellow-members,  who  knew  he  was  simply  jest- 
ing, without  desire  to  wound  or  insult  any  one,  while 
Mr.  Horsford's  speech  was  maliciously  insulting. 
It  looked  at  first  as  if  Keegan  would  assault  T. 
Percy  and  demolish  him  as  one  of  the  minor  ani- 
mals. Keegan's  jaw  snapped  and  the  veins  stood 
out  on  his  temples,  but  he  kept  his  seat  and  sat 
silent.  Among  the  members  of  that  assembly  were 
Robert  Ray  Hamilton,  grandson  of  Alexander  Ham- 
ilton, Hamilton  Fish,  Jr.,  and  Johnson  Livingston 
de  Peyster,  a  descendant  of  Sir  William  Johnson, 

226 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

Chancellor  Livingston,  and  numberless  De  Peysters. 
They  were  all  friends  of  Keegan  and  rather  averse 
to  associating  with  T.  Percy. 

The  menagerie  bill  was  debated  for  some  time, 
various  assemblymen  offering  humorous  amend- 
ments to  get  a  rise  out  of  T.  Percy,  who  took  the 
fun  angrily,  and  berated  his  fellow  -  members  for 
their  lack  of  regard  for  the  wishes  of  the  "better 
element,"  in  whose  behalf  he  had  introduced  the 
bill.  A  recess  was  taken,  and  the  members  tiring 
of  the  fun,  the  roll  was  about  to  be  called  on  the 
bill  when  Assemblyman  Keegan  again  rose  to  his 
feet. 

''Let's  stop  this  and  pass  the  gentleman's  bill.'* 
The  sneer  Keegan  put  into  the  word  gentleman  was 
worse  than  T.  Percy's  epithet  of  hoodlum.  ''We 
have  been  hearing  the  gentleman  all  day  talk  about 
the  better  element  and  the  best  people,  and  about 
him  representing  constituents  with  ancestors.  No- 
body in  me  district  has  an  ancestor  or  wants  one, 
or  would  know  it  if  dey  saw  it,  but  dere  is  people 
in  the  State  what  has  ancestors,  genuine  ancestors, 
and  I  believe  in  giving  dem  an  appropriation  the 
same  as  anybody  else,  and  I'm  in  favor  of  the  ap- 
propriation this  bill  calls  for.  But  if  the  people 
what  has  ancestors  wants  this  bill,  why  don't  dey 
have  the  members  of  this  body  what's  got  genuine 
ancestors  represent  them  and  say  so.  Dere's  me 
friend  Colonel  Hamilton — " 

"Colonel"  was  Assemblyman  Keegan's  title  of 
dignity,  and  as  he  waved  his  hand  towards  Robert 
Ray  Hamilton  the  "Colonel"  rose  and  bowed  in 
friendly  acquiescence. 

227 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

**  Dere's  me  friend  Colonel  Fish." 

Hamilton  Fish,  Jr.,  arose  to  his  full  height  of  six 
feet  four,  bowed  with  dignity  to  the  speaker,  and 
again  to  Keegan,  and  remained  standing. 

"Dere's  me  old  friend  Johnsie  de  Peyster." 

Colonel  Johnson  Livingston  de  Peyster,  the  man 
who  raised  the  first  United  States  flag  in  Richmond 
after  the  Confederate  evacuation,  and  a  genuine 
colonel  this  time,  rose  and  bowed  and  stood  with 
his  two  associates. 

"Dey's  friends  of  mine,  and  real  friends,"  shout- 
ed Keegan,  his  voice  breaking  with  emotion,  w^hile 
the  assembly  cheered  in  appreciation.  "  Dey  has 
real  ancestors.  As  for  this  man,  this  T.  Percy  Hors- 
ford,  w^hy,  he  ain't  got  no  granf adder." 

A  roar  of  laughter  and  applause  lasted  through 
the  calling  of  the  roll.  The  clerk  marked  the  mem- 
bers' names  without  their  answering.  There  would 
be  a  lull  and  some  one  would  shout,  *'  Why,  he  ain't 
got  no  granf  adder."  T.  Percy  never  recovered; 
his  legislative  career  was  at  an  end.  Later  in  the 
session  he  tried  to  speak  on  several  measures  affect- 
ing the  "  better  element,"  but  his  oratory  had  lost  its 
power,  and  cries  of,  "Where's  his  grandfather?" 
would  be  heard  in  interruption.  He  had  lost  the 
respect  and  sympathy  of  his  associates. 


XXV 

I  FEW  days  after  the  entertaining  de- 
bate on  the  menagerie  bill  Van 
Buren  was  surprised  to  hear  the  clerk 
announce,  among  the  other  commit- 
tee reports,  the  Iroquois  Power  Bill  as 
favorably  reported  by  the  committee  on  miscel- 
laneous franchises.  His  first  impulse  was  to  rise 
and  question  the  report  and  denounce  its  accuracy. 
He  knew  he  had  attended  every  meeting  of  the 
committee  of  which  he  had  notice,  and  he  knew 
the  Iroquois  Power  Bill  had  not  even  been  consid- 
ered or  debated  at  any  of  those  meetings.  He  had 
taken  little  personal  part  in  the  committee's  sessions, 
except  to  be  regular  in  his  attendance  and  to  listen 
attentively  to  whatever  was  said  and  done.  In  like 
manner  he  had  sat  through  the  assembly  sessions 
without  making  a  speech,  voting  as  Assemblyman 
Peters  voted  on  all  questions  where  there  was  a 
party  decision,  and  not  voting  at  all  on  some  ques- 
tions he  did  not  understand  and  when  party  lines 
were  not  drawn. 

With  the  experience  of  T.  Percy  Horsford  fresh 
in  his  mind.  Van  Buren  thought  it  a  wise  policy  to 
fjnd  out  what  was  going  on  before  he  said  any- 
thing. Looking  around  the  assembly  chamber, 
he  noticed  Elder  Perkins  watching   him  intently. 

229 


John    Van    'Bxsren,    Politician 

He  left  his  seat,  and,  going  over  to  the  elder, 
said, 

"  I  don't  recollect  the  committee  voting  to  report 
that  Iroquois  bill." 

''  I  didn't  see  you  at  yesterday's  meeting,"  re- 
plied the  elder. 

"  I  didn't  get  any  notice  of  a  meeting  yesterday." 

"That  must  have  been  an  oversight  of  the  clerk; 
I'll  have  to  reprimand  him." 

**  Don't  bother,  just  tell  me  what  is  going  on." 

Elder  Perkins  came  near  forgetting  himself  and 
sighing  with  relief.  *'  I  didn't  think  you  felt  that 
way  about  it  or  I'd  have  seen  personally  that  you 
were  notified  of  the  meeting.  Usually  I  leave  all 
that  to  the  clerk.  You  and  I  are  both  at  the  Dela- 
van;  come  around  to  my  room  to-night  and  I'll 
talk  to  you.  I've  some  old  Ulster  County  apple- 
jack that  I  don't  think  anything  in  New  York  or 
Albany  either  can  equal." 

The  elder  was  trying  to  be  as  friendly  as  he 
knew  how  to  be.  Van  Buren  left  him  and  after 
the  session  went  in  to  see  the  speaker.  General 
Husted  beamed  on  him  with  his  perennial  smile. 

''Well,  my  boy,  what  can  I  do  for  you?  Any 
Httle  bill  that  you  want?  By-the-way,  I  haven't 
seen  much  of  you  lately.  How  are  you  getting  on  ? 
Not  making  any  speeches  yet,  I  see." 

**  I  wanted  to  ask  you  about  that  Iroquois  Power 
Bill.  It  was  reported  this  morning  from  my  com- 
mittee and  I  didn't  know  anything  about  it.  What 
should  I  do?" 

"Just  what  you  are  doing.  Come  to  me  for  ad- 
vice.    Some  of  our  friends  seem  to  have  interested 

230 


John    Van    Biiren,    Politician 

themselves  in  it.  Last  year  it  wasn't  in  very  good 
hands — speculative  promoters,  I  might  say.  Why, 
they  might  have  used  that  franchise  as  a  crow-bar 
to  pry  into  every  power  company  and  electric  light 
company  and  water  company  in  the  State.  That 
would  never  do.  This  is  a  broad  franchise,  pretty 
liberal;  but  I  believe  in  being  liberal  to  the  right 
people,  and  a  little  bird  told  me — there  are  a  lot 
of  little  birds  around  here — that  the  original  people 
became  discouraged  and  sold  out  and  some  of  our 
friends  are  behind  the  bill  now.  It's  a  good  bill  in 
the  right  hands." 

It  was  a  temptation  to  Van  Buren  to  make  a 
speech  denouncing  the  bill.  Several  reporters  from 
the  New^  York  newspapers  came  to  him  and  asked 
if  he  w^as  not  going  to  oppose  it.  He  replied  that  it 
was  his  first  term  in  the  assembly  and  he  did  not 
pretend  to  have  learned  all  about  everything  in  a 
few  weeks.  The  bill  progressed  rapidly.  It  ap- 
peared in  committee  of  the  whole  the  day  after  it 
was  reported  from  the  committee  on  miscellaneous 
franchises,  and  the  committee  of  the  whole  ordered 
it  to  a  third  reading  without  debate.  The  assem- 
bly rather  expected  to  hear  from  T.  Percy  Horsford, 
as  he  had  been  regularly  denouncing  everything, 
but  he  had  not  recovered  from  his  experience  with 
the  menagerie  bill. 

Usually  it  took  several  days  to  have  a  bill  en- 
grossed, but  the  day  after  the  Iroquois  Power  Bill 
had  gone  through  the  committee  of  the  whole  it 
appeared  on  the  clerk's  desk,  engrossed,  and  on  the 
third  reading  calendar,  and  the  speaker  announced 
that  the  vote  would  be  taken  on  its  passage.  There 
i6  231 


John    Van    Burcn^    Politician 

had  been  no  speeches,  but  Elder  Perkins,  whose 
oratory  was  of  the  camp-meeting  order,  felt  called 
to  explain  why  he  favored  the  bill  after  having  op- 
posed it  for  two  years. 

**You,  Mr.  Speaker,  and  the  older  members  of 
this  body  are  doubtless  familiar  with  the  provisions 
of  this  measure,"  he  began.  "This  same  bill  was 
before  this  body  last  year  and  the  year  before,  and 
you  may  recall  that  on  both  those  occasions  I  suc- 
cessfully opposed  it,  not  on  its  merits,  but  because 
of  the  methods  employed  by  its  supporters.  On  its 
merits  this  is  a  most  meritorious  measure.  It  pro- 
vides that  the  pure,  limpid,  abundant  waters  of  the 
beautiful  Iroquois  may  be  conveyed  to  our  great 
cities  for  the  cleansing  and  the  purification  of  the 
inhabitants  thereof,  and  leading  them  thereby  to 
that  godliness  whereof  the  proverb  speaks.  Though 
an  humble  representative  of  a  rural  constituency, 
where  pure  water  abounds  and  abhorrent  vice  is 
absent,  I  feel  for  the  denizens  of  our  great  cities ;  I 
feel  charged  with  a  certain  responsibility  for  their 
moral  and  sanitary  condition,  and  I  know  no  better 
way  to  discharge  that  duty  which  rests  on  my  own 
conscience  than  to  vote  for  this  bill  now  that  it  is 
in  clean  hands.  I  understand  that  the  real  purpose 
of  this  bill  is  to  supply  pure,  untainted,  uncon- 
taminated  water,  that  blessing  from  the  skies  and 
the  springs,  to  the  teeming  milHons  of  our  great 
metropolis.  That  would  be  a  blessing  and  we 
should  enjoy  its  bestowal. 

"Speaking  of  the  past,  Mr.  Speaker,  while  my 
views  have  always  been  as  I  have  stated,  I  could 
not  support   this  meritorious   measure  because  of 

232 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

the  influences  and  methods  which  surrounded  it. 
The  sHmy  trail  of  the  lobby  was  wound  around 
every  section  of  it.  Lobbyists,  those  human  vermin 
that  infest  the  corridors  of  this  magnificent  and 
beautiful  Capitol,  had  charge  of  this  bill,  and  be- 
sought support  for  it  by  the  offer  of  stock  and 
bonds  in  the  Iroquois  Power  Company  to  secure 
votes  for  its  passage.  Much  as  I  desired  to  bring 
pure  water  to  the  poor  of  our  great  cities,  I  could 
not  support  a  tainted  bill. 

"This  year,  Mr.  Speaker,  there  are  no  such  in- 
fluences or  rumors.  I  thank  God,  from  whom  all 
blessings  flow,  that  there  has  been  no  report,  even 
in  the  most  suspicious  and  prying  organs  of  the 
public  press,  that  such  influences  have  been  at  work 
this  year  or  that  members  of  this  body  have  been 
approached  with  corrupting  offers  of  stock  and 
bonds — " 

It  was  a  beautiful,  taking  speech,  and  Elder 
Perkins  was  just  closing  his  unctuous  peroration 
when  Assemblyman  Keegan,  unable  to  resist  the 
temptation,  although  he  was  going  to  vote  for  the 
bill,  rose  and  interrupted. 

''  Yes,  Mr.  Speaker,  the  gentleman  is  right.  This 
year  it's  not  stock  and  bonds,  it's  cash." 

Elder  Perkins  looked  reproachfully  at  Keegan, 
who  was  laughing  heartily,  and  sat  down.  The  roll- 
call  proceeded  and  the  bill  passed.  There  were 
seventeen  negative  votes,  of  which  Peters  and  Van 
Buren  cast  two,  and  the  speaker  did  not  vote. 

"You  did  right,  Van  Buren,"  said  Peters,  after- 
wards. "  Keep  your  record  straight,  your  mouth 
shut,  and  your  eyes  open.     You're  learning.     I  was 

^2>Z 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

afraid  you  might  take  this  as  your  opportunity  to 
make  a  splurge." 

"I'm  not  here  to  make  a  splurge,"  replied  Van 
Buren.  *'  I'm  here  to  watch  the  wheels  go  round 
and  see  why  and  how  they  revolve." 

Van  Buren's  only  speech  during  the  session  was 
prepared  with  care,  and  he  waited  for  the  occasion 
to  make  its  delivery  opportune  and  seemingly 
spontaneous.  It  was  to  be  an  aggressive  defence  of 
Tammany  democracy  and  an  attack  on  the  kind 
of  reform  that  sporadically  springs  up  in  New  York 
City  from  time  to  time,  like  the  periodical  locust 
plague,  and  had  its  representatives  in  such  politi- 
cians as  T.  Percy  Horsford.  This  speech  he  worked 
over  and  rewrote  and  polished.  He  put  in  it  refer- 
ences to  Commissioner  ^lahoney  and  a  eulogy  of 
Mr.  Coulter,  as  a  man  whose  word  w^as  good  and 
who  stood  for  order  and  organization,  without  which 
nothing  in  any  line  of  human  effort  could  be  suc- 
cessfully carried  on.  He  thought  of  submitting 
the  speech  to  Miss  Marlow,  but  he  still  doubted 
her  interest  in  his  political  welfare,  and,  to  tell  the 
truth,  he  was  afraid  of  her  sarcasm. 


XXVI 

|HILE  awaiting  a  suitable  opportu- 
nity to  deliver  his  solitary  speech,  Van 
Buren  extended  his  acquaintance  with 
the  legislators  and  their  ways.  He 
looked  up  Elder  Perkins  one  evening, 
and  he  and  the  elder  talked  politics  and  drank  the 
Ulster  County  apple-jack  for  several  hours.  The 
elder  was  a  mine  of  political  recollections.  He 
was  one  of  the  founders  of  the  Republican  party, 
and  had  held  offices  of  all  kinds  and  everywhere. 
President  Lincoln  had  appointed  him  minister  to 
Venezuela,  he  had  been  consul  to  Venice,  agent  in 
charge  of  the  Osage  Indians,  United  States  revenue 
collector  in  southern  Alabama,  a  district  judge  in 
Arkansas,  and  now  he  had  come  back  in  his  old 
age  to  close  his  career  as  member  of  the  assembly 
from  the  county  where  he  was  bom,  and  where  he 
sought  to  make  his  peace  with  his  conscience  and 
even  up  the  balance  for  some  episodes  in  his  earlier 
life  by  scrupulously  fulfilling  the  duties  of  superin- 
tendent of  the  Sunday-school  he  had  attended  when 
a  boy. 

The  elder  enlightened  him  about  the  Iroquois  Power 
Bill.  The  members  of  the  committee  had  received 
five  hundred  dollars  apiece  for  a  favorable  report, 
and  Van  Buren  could  have  had  his  bit  only  the  elder 

235 


John    Van    Burcn,    Politician 

knew  he  wouldn't  take  it,  and  so  it  was  no  use  offer- 
ing it.  The  elder  himself  had  not  received  any 
cash,  but  the  president  of  the  reorganized  com- 
pany had  promised  to  make  the  elder's  son  assist- 
ant to  the  chief -engineer,  and  the  elder  had  a  few 
stock  certificates  which  he  intended  to  give  his  son 
to  strengthen  him  with  the  management  of  the 
company. 

''  I  thought  you  were  a  different  kind  of  man," 
said  the  elder,  *'  and  I  want  to  apologize  to  you.  I 
thought  you  had  the  makings  of  another  T.  Percy 
Horsford,  but  I  should  have  known  better,  and  I'm 
glad  to  say  so.  You're  getting  on  very  well  for  a 
new  man.  You  ain't  crooked,  and  still  you  don't 
go  priding  yourself  on  it  and  abusing  everybody 
else." 

"  How  large  a  proportion  of  the  one  hundred  and 
twenty-eight  assemblymen  sell  their  votes?"  Van 
Buren  asked,  with  pardonable  curiosity. 

*'  What  do  you  mean  by  ' sell  their  votes' ?"  The 
elder  was  somewhat  querulous  over  the  question. 
"There  may  be  fifty  you  can  buy  over  the  counter 
like  a  cigar  or  a  bill  of  goods  for  cash  on  the  spot. 
There  are  sixty  more  you  can  get  if  you  offer  judi- 
cious inducements  and  go  at  it  right.  I  suppose  I'm 
one  of  that  kind.  Then  there  are  fifteen  or  twenty, 
either  freaks  like  T.  Percy  or  men  like  yourself  and 
Hamilton  and  Fish  and  the  like,  who  ain't  in  need 
of  money  and  can't  be  influenced  that  way.  But 
any  man  can  be  got  at  if  the  right  gewgaw  is 
dangled  before  his  eyes.  With  some  it's  the  long 
green,  with  others  it's  a  stack  of  chips  or  a  bottle 
or  a  woman.     When  it  isn't  one  it's   the  other. 

236 


John    Van    Barcnt    Politician 

They  are  bound  to  take  a  fall  out  of  every  man 
some  day." 

Van  Buren  was  in  the  senate  chamber  the  day  the 
Iroquois  Power  Bill  came  up  for  passage  there.  It's 
course  in  the  senate  had  been  difficult.  The  news- 
papers came  out  with  charges  that  the  assemblymen 
who  voted  for  the  bill  had  received  two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  apiece  and  that  the  money  had  been  dis- 
persed by  Colonel  Jim  Phillips.  They  redoubled  their 
charges  against  the  bill ;  it  would  monopolize  the  water 
supply  of  the  State  and  put  the  people  of  the  cities 
in  the  hands  of  this  corporation ;  it  would  give  away 
the  reserve  water  supply  of  the  Erie  Canal,  which 
would  have  to  be  bought  back  at  some  future  day 
when  the  canal  would  be  enlarged ;  nothing  would  be 
paid  for  this  valuable  franchise  except  such  sums  as 
were  expended  in  its  passage. 

This  advertising  had  added  to  the  avarice  and  vo- 
racity of  many  of  the  senators,  and,  although  the  sen- 
ate was  only  a  quarter  as  numerous  as  the  assembly, 
the  senators  asked  more  than  quadruple  the  money  for 
their  vote.  While  the  members  of  the  assembly  com- 
mittee on  miscellaneous  franchises  received  only  five 
hundred  dollars  apiece,  the  Senators  on  the  correspond- 
ing senate  committee  demanded  five  thousand  dollars 
apiece  and  got  it.  As  a  result  the  senators  outside  the 
committee  thereupon  raised  their  prices  to  twenty-five 
hundred  dollars  and  higher.  Colonel  Jim  Phillips  held 
off  from  doing  business  at  these  quotations ;  not  that 
they  were  prohibitory  as  regards  the  Iroquois  Power 
Bill,  but  he  did  not  like  to  have  the  senators  think 
that  they  could  arbitrarily  raise  the  rates  on  a  bill 
he  had  charge  of.     As  a  result,  when  the  bill  came 

237 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

on  for  its  final  passage,  Colonel  Jim  secured  only  the 
necessary  seventeen  votes  required  by  the  State 
constitution  to  pass  it.  i\mong  the  senators  left 
out  was  Senator  Jones,  from  Delaware  County,  a 
senatorial  counterpart  of  Elder  Perkins,  only  more 
sanctimonious,  and  so  notorious  that  he  was  satiri- 
cally called  Honest  John  Jones.  Honest  John  was 
not  included  in  the  seventeen  for  whose  votes  ne- 
gotiations had  been  closed.  Fred  Tree,  in  getting 
quotations  for  Colonel  Jim,  had  suggested  the  matter 
to  Honest  John  and  refused  to  pay  the  five  thou- 
sand dollars  Honest  John  demanded,  telling  him  to 
go  further  and  fare  worse. 

Accordingly  Honest  John  prepared  a  speech  boil- 
ing with  indignation,  and  told  Fred  Tree  its  contents. 
Tree  said  the  colonel  might  add  five  hundred  to  the 
twenty-five  hundred  dollars  the  others  were  getting, 
to  compensate  Honest  John  for  his  literary  efforts, 
but  that  was  the  limit.  Honest  John  reminded  him 
that  the  Senators  on  the  committee  were  getting  five 
thousand  dollars  apiece  and  that  he  was  as  good  as 
they,  whereupon  Tree  again  told  him  to  go  further. 

When  the  roll  was  to  be  called  on  the  bill  one  of 
the  journal  clerks,  who  represented  Colonel  Jim 
behind  the  senate  desks,  advised  Tree  to  give 
Honest  John  his  price,  as  it  was  too  narrow  a  mar- 
gin to  provide  for  only  the  requisite  number  of 
votes.  Tree  refused,  and  Honest  John  was  left  to 
make  his  denunciation  of  the  bill.  He  waited  until 
the  roll  was  called,  and  in  answering  to  his  name 
he  sailed  into  the  bill  in  fine  forensic  style,  with 
details  and  epithets.  So  strenuous  did  his  speech 
become  that  Senator  Tome,  whose  name  was  the 

238 


John    Van    Btircnt    Politician 

last  of  the  seventeen  with  whom  arrangements  had 
been  made,  casually  strolled  out  into  the  lobby  and 
said, 

"Fred,  voting  'aye'  after  that  speech  is  worth 
another  thousand." 

''Not  on  your  life,"  replied  Tree,  who  scented 
danger. 

Honest  John  was  continuing  his  perambulating 
speech.  Tree  returned  to  the  senate  chamber  and 
took  a  seat  near  the  rail,  where  Honest  John  saw 
him  at  once,  and  watched  Tree  lean  his  elbow  on  the 
railing  and  hold  up  four  fingers  With  his  eye  still 
on  Tree,  Honest  John  continued  his  speech,  shaking 
his  head  vigorously.  "  No,  Mr.  President,  we  are 
entitled  to  written  replies  to  these  newspaper  argu- 
ments, replies  that  are  as  detailed  as  the  accusations 
themselves." 

Tree  saw  trouble  if  Honest  John  kept  on,  with 
Tome  also  trying  to  raise  and  no  telling  who  would 
be  the  next.  He  hurriedly  wrote  on  a  slip  of  paper : 
"Shut  it  off.  You're  on,"  and  had  a  page  lay  the 
note  on  Honest  John's  desk. 

Without  ceasing  his  flow  of  language,  Honest  John 
picked  up  the  note  and  looked  at  Tree,  who  nodded. 
Honest  John  had  accomplished  his  object,  and 
closed  his  speech  as  follows: 

"These  arguments,  Mr.  President,  would  impel 
any  man  governed  solely  by  reason  to  vote  against 
this  bill,  and,  following  the  prom.p tings  of  my  judg- 
ment, I  am,  as  I  said,  opposed  to  it.  But  the 
thought  that  pure  water,  no  matter  what  it  costs 
in  money  and  political  corruption,  is  a  necessity 
to  the  life  of  every  prattling  babe,  every  innocent 

239 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

child,  every  mother  in  our  great  cities ;  this  thought, 
Mr.  President,  appeals  to  my  sentiment,  to  my 
heart,  to  my  sympathy,  and,  wrong  though  I  know 
it  is  to  yield  to  these  impulses,  I  vote  'aye.'" 

Fred  Tree  returned  to  the  lobby,  where  Senator 
Tome  was  walking  up  and  down  smoking.  "  We've 
got  seventeen  votes  already  without  you,  Tome," 
said  Tree.  "  Take  what's  coming  to  you  or  leave  it." 

The  bill  passed — "ayes,"  nineteen;  "noes,"  ten; 
absent,  three.  Senator  Sutter,  who  cast  the  ad- 
ditional "  aye"  vote,  voted  honestly  and  gratuitous- 
ly, being  touched  by  Honest  John's  sentimental 
appeal. 

The  senatorial  success  in  raising  the  price  for 
votes  in  disproportion  to  its  numbers  caused  so 
much  feeling  among  the  assemblymen  that  bills 
introduced  by  the  senators  were  discriminated 
against  in  the  assembly.  Senator  Brown  was  an 
innocent  sufferer  from  this  feeling.  He  had  a  bill 
to  change  the  name  of  the  Zion  African  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church  of  Bleecker  Street  to  the  Holy 
Zion  African  Church,  a  harmless  measure  to  please 
some  of  his  colored  constituents.  To  his  surprise, 
the  assembly  declined  to  pass  the  bill,  so  many 
members  failing  to  vote  that  the  bill  lacked  the 
constitutional  majority.  Senator  Brown  had  in 
his  desk  a  bundle  of  thousand-dollar  bonds  of  the 
Aureola  Gold  and  Silver  Company,  a  fake  concern 
in  New  York  which  had  been  closed  by  the  police, 
one  of  whom  sent  the  senator  a  bundle  of  the  bonds 
as  a  joke.  On  hearing  of  the  defeat  of  the  bill  and 
the  reasons  for  the  assembly's  action,  he  thought 
of  a  plan  to  get  even  with  them  for  their  exhibition 

240 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

of  jealousy,  and,  going  over  to  the  assembly  with 
the  package  of  bonds,  he  had  the  bill  at  once  re- 
considered and  the  roll  called  again  on  its  final 
passage.  While  the  clerk  was  calling  the  roll 
Senator  Brown  went  from  assemblyman  to  assem- 
blyman handing  out  bonds,  and  whispering,  *'  Vote 
*  aye.'  "  He  fared  successfully  until  he  handed  one 
bond  to  Assemblyman  Strohauptner. 

''Nein,  Freddy,"  said  Strohauptner.  "Zwei." 
Laughing  to  himself,  Brown  handed  over  another 
bond. 

This  time  the  bill  passed,  and  after  the  result  was 
announced  Brown  went  to  Strohauptner  and  said : 
*'  Look  here,  Max,  I  want  that  extra  bond  back.  I 
can't  make  my  accounts  balance.  The  speaker  is 
the  only  man,  except  you,  that  was  to  get  two 
bonds." 

''Ain't  Maximilian  Strohauptner  just  as  good  as 
General  James  William  Husted  ?  Ve  have  von  vote 
each.  Von  vote,  zwei  bonds.  Nein,  Freddy.  Dose 
is  pretty  bonds." 

Brown  pleaded  with  Strohauptner,  and  offered  to 
pay  him  fifty  cents  on  the  dollar,  in  cash,  for  the 
bonds,  which  is  regarded  as  a  good  legislative  dis- 
count, stocks  and  bonds  being  somewhat  discredited 
as  a  result  of  the  overactivity  of  some  corporate 
printing-presses,  followed  by  reorganization  and 
the  wiping  out  of  the  legislative  contingent.  Stro- 
hauptner's  cupidity  was  excited  by  the  offer,  and 
he  refused  to  compromise  for  less  than  ten  per  cent, 
off  for  cash.  The  other  assemblymen  by  this 
time  were  on  to  the  joke,  and  stiffened  Strohaupt- 
ner not  to  take  less  than  par.     It  was  not  until 

241 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

Strohauptner  tried  to  sell  the  bonds  for  par  in  New 
York  that  he  would  believe  he  had  been  imposed 
upon,  and  then  he  was  furious. 

It  was  near  the  end  of  the  session  that  Van  Buren 
delivered  his  one  speech.  The  occasion  was  one  of 
T.  Percy  Horsford's  numerous  bills  to  reform  New 
York,  and  to  make  people  change  their  habits, 
manners,  and  desires  by  legislation.  Van  Buren's 
speech  fitted  in  appropriately,  and  he  added  a  few 
extemporaneous  remarks  on  T.  Percy  and  his  kind. 
The  speech  took  half  an  hour  to  deliver,  and  was 
listened  to  intently  by  the  assembly,  who  always  pay 
more  attention  to  a  man  who  speaks  infrequently. 
The  newspaper  reporters,  who  had  been  desirous 
of  printing  something  about  Van  Buren,  seized  the 
opportunity  and  printed  most  of  the  speech  with  a 
description  of  the  speaker. 


XXVII 

IN  his  return  to  New  York  at  the  end 
of  the  session  Van  Buren  was  cor- 
dially welcomed  by  Commissioner 
Mahoney. 

**You  didn't  make  a  fool  of  your- 
self, and  the  old  man  is  very  friendly  to  you  for 
what  you  said  about  him  in  your  speech.  I  see 
the  Post  and  Tribune  say  that  any  man  who  will 
make  a  speech  like  yours,  defending  and  praising 
Mr.  Coulter,  isn't  fit  to  hold  a  public  office.  That 
will  send  you  to  the  senate  sure." 

When  Van  Buren  went  that  evening  with  Com- 
missioner Mahoney  to  the  Democratic  Club  they 
found  Mr.  Coulter  holding  his  usual  levee.  Mr. 
Coulter  went  out  of  his  way  to  greet  Van  Buren 
and  hold  him  up  as  an  example  to  those  present. 
Grasping  Van  Buren's  hand,  he  said,  in  a  voice  that 
could  be  heard  to  every  comer  of  the  cafe: 

**  There's  a  man  for  you,  commissioner.  Goes  to 
Albany  and  keeps  out  of  scandal,  and  behaves  him- 
self, and  makes  a  good  record,  and  never  makes  a 
speech  or  gets  into  the  newspapers  except  once,  and 
that  time  to  say  a  good  word  for  me  and  the  party. 
There's  an  example  for  a  lot  of  these  district  leaders. 
We'll  have  to  send  him  to  the  senate  this  fall  to 
show  the  rest  of  them.     Mr.  Van  Buren,  you  have 

243 


John    Van    Burcnt   Politician 

done  me  and  the  organization  credit,  and  we  want 
to  show  you  that  we  reward  creditable  men." 

*'  Look  out  for  one  thing,  and  don't  become  a  re- 
former," Commissioner  Mahoney  added.  "Don't 
be  one  of  the  goody-goodies." 

"  No  fear  of  that,"  said  Van  Buren.  'Tve  heard 
a  great  deal  about  you,  commissioner,  and  I  know 
you  don't  make  money  off  women  and  gambling- 
houses,  and  you  won't  stand  for  it  either.  I  believe 
a  man  can  be  a  Tammany  man  and  be  honest.  If 
he  can't  Tammany  should  throw  him  out." 

The  commissioner  was  pleased  at  the  retort. 
''Well,  it  would  be  better  for  Tammany  Hall  if  a 
few  of  those  gents  were  thrown  out.  The  old  man 
gets  the  credit  for  all  they  do,  and  some  of  it  is 
pretty  raw — tougher  than  I  can  stand  for,  for  one. 
They're  on  the  make  all  the  time.  It's  nothing  but 
graft.  They're  no  good  to  anybody.  I'd  be  glad 
to  see  the  old  man  throw  them  all  out.  No  man 
can  live  a  happy  life  with  his  pockets  filled  with 
dirty  dollars.  I'm  glad  you  saw  the  old  man  him- 
self. He  thinks  a  great  deal  of  you,  and  we'll  send 
you  to  the  senate." 

"Isn't  the  senate  district  more  strongly  Repub- 
lican than  the  assembly  district?" 

"That's  what  the  old  man  wants  to  put  you  up 
for.  He  doesn't  know  any  one  else  who  might 
win." 

"  Do  you  know,  commissioner,  I'm  not  very  en- 
thusiastic over  all  this.  I  suppose  I  should  be  grat- 
ified to  be  a  senator,  but  what  does  it  all  lead  to, 
anyhow?  I  enjoyed  m}^  winter  in  the  assembly, 
but  I'd  hate  to  be  sentenced  to  ten  years  of  it." 

244 


John    Van    Baren,   Politician 

The  next  evening,  while  on  his  way  to  the  Uni- 
versity Club,  Van  Buren  ran  across  State  Senator 
Elling.  The  senator  was  the  Republican  boss  of 
Schenectady  County,  and  practised  law  to  fill  in  the 
intervals  of  political  life.  He  explained  that  he  was 
down  in  New  York  to  see  about  his  political  fences 
for  the  fall,  and  suggested  that  if  Van  Buren  desired 
to  extend  his  political  acquaintance  he  should  ac- 
company him  to  call  on  the  Republican  boss.  Van 
Buren  gladly  acquiesced.  Senator  Elling  explained 
that  there  were  two  Republican  headquarters,  one 
by  day  and  the  other  by  night.  The  day  headquar- 
ters were  at  the  business  office  of  the  boss,  on  lower 
Broadway,  while  the  night  headquarters  they  could 
visit  at  once,  as  their  location  was  just  across  Madi- 
son Square  at  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel.  The  two 
walked  across  the  square  and  through  the  hotel 
lobby,  past  the  clerk's  desk  to  the  red  plush-covered 
lounges  in  the  corner.  There  was  an  interesting 
group  gathered  there.  In  the  comer  was  a  gray- 
bearded,  elderly,  well-dressed  gentleman,  clad  in  a 
silk-faced  frock-coat,  dark  trousers,  and  shoes  that 
were  not  patent  leather.  He  wore  a  silk  hat  and  on 
one  hand  a  glove,  with  which  he  made  gestures  when 
talking.  His  voice  was  soft  and  his  manner  gentle 
and  easy.  The  group  around  him  manifested  none 
of  the  cringing  deference  which  Van  Buren  had 
noticed  at  Tammany  Hall,  and  especially  at  the 
Democratic  Club.  They  were  a  different  class  and 
type  of  men,  more  of  the  genus  of  country  lawyers, 
who  looked  as  if  from  their  first  appearance  in  the 
world  they  had  been  clad  in  frock-coats  and  silk 
hats,  and  their  attitudes  and  low,  semi-whispering 

245 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

tones  bore  out  their  likeness  to  the  country  lawyer 
in  consultation. 

''This  is  the  Amen  Comer,"  explained  Senator 
Elling.  "  Here  is  where  we  all  gather  evenings  to 
discuss  the  general  affairs  of  state.  The  reporters 
come  here  for  their  political  news  items." 

**  Why  is  it  called  the  Amen  Comer." 

''There  is  an  old  custom  of  saying  'Amen'  when 
one  subject  has  been  thoroughly  thrashed  out  and 
it  is  time  to  talk  about  something  else.  Here  is 
where  the  poHtical  anecdote  originates  and  the 
stories  you  read  in  the  morning  papers  are  con- 
structed ;  it  is  the  political  news  centre  of  the  State." 

Van  Buren  was  introduced  to  several  of  the 
Ameners.  The  Republican  boss  greeted  him  cor- 
dially. "  I  knew  your  father,  Mr.  Van  Buren.  I 
think  he  would  be  with  us  on  the  issues  of  to-day. 
I  recall  hearing  an  eloquent  speech  of  his  in  the 
campaign  of  i860,  when  he  denounced  the  Repub- 
lican party  for  its  invasion  of  property  rights  and 
its  attack  on  established  institutions." 

"  I  believe  in  the  same  traditions  of  Democracy 
now,"  said  Van  Buren,  "though  I  do  not  think  the 
party  lines  and  issues  are  as  clearly  defined  nowa- 
days.    Politics  seems  to  be  more  of  a  business." 

"It  has  its  social  side  still." 

Senator  Elling  took  Van  Buren  into  the  hotel 
bar-room.  The  Ameners  did  not  seem  given  to 
drinks.  It  was  more  of  a  social  gathering,  like  a 
group  of  farmers  swapping  stories  at  a  country 
grocery  or  lawyers  sitting  around  the  hotel  fire- 
place after  the  adjournment  of  court. 

"  We  all  report  to  the  old  man  on  our  arrival  in 
246 


John   Van   Burcn,  Politician 

town,"  said  Senator  Elling.  ''He  would  be  hurt 
if  we  didn't.  It  is  a  sort  of  a  family  gathering. 
On  Sundays  so  many  of  us  from  up  the  State  are 
here  that  there  is  a  regular  Sunday-school,  with  the 
old  man  as  teacher.  He  never  gives  orders,  but 
merely  consults  and  suggests.  That  is  why  he 
comes  by  his  name  of  '  The  Easy  Boss.'  His  voice 
is  never  raised,  and  there  are  no  thunderings  or 
threats.  But  the  scholars,  when  they  do  not  take 
kindly  to  his  suggestions,  soon  find  themselves  out 
of  the  fold.  Some  of  them  have  been  coming  here 
for  twenty  years." 

''  Well,  I  must  say  they  seem  longer  lived  and  bet- 
ter preserved  than  the  Tammany  leaders,"  replied 
Van  Buren. 

''They  are  a  different  type  of  men,  with  different 
methods.  They  suit  the  rural  districts.  It  won't 
be  long  before  every  county  in  the  State  outside  of 
New  York  is  Republican.  The  very  tactics  which 
built  up  Tammany  in  New  York  aUenate  the  old- 
time  Democrats  up  the  State." 

"  One  would  think  you  claimed  to  embody  all  the 
virtue  and  respectabiHty  in  the  State." 

"  That  is  what  we  do.  We  are  the  better  element, 
the  people  of  property  and  substance,  the  pillars  of 
the  community  who  go  regularly  to  church  and 
whose  paper  is  good  at  the  banks." 

"  How  do  you  reconcile  that  with  the  way  you  buy 
votes?  You  are  demoralizing  the  whole  rural  con- 
stituency. I  saw  your  workers  paying  as  high  as 
twelve  dollars  a  vote  in  Schenectady  last  fall." 

"  That  is  a  sad  necessity.     Still,  it  brings  about  a 
distribution  of  prosperity  and  tends  to  equalize  the 
17  247 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

benefits.  The  corporations  which  receive  political 
favors  contribute  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  poor 
voter  benefits  on  the  other.  The  man  who  sells  his 
vote  is  eliminated  in  considering  the  demands  of 
the  various  interests,  and  thus  a  large  class  of  the 
population,  most  ignorant  and  debased,  need  not 
be  considered,  which  would  otherwise,  in  a  democ- 
racy like  ours,  based  on  popular  suffrage,  be  the 
object  of  demagogic  appeals  and  socialistic  legisla- 
tion. Buying  votes  is  the  balance-wheel  which 
regulates  the  suffrage." 

''That  is  an  argument.     Better  disfranchise  them 
altogether  and  save  the  money." 


XXVIII 

^HE  session  had  come  and  gone  with- 
out making  more  definitely  certain 
any  of  the  matters  with  which  Van 
Buren  was  concerned.  His  theory 
^^^1;^^  that  things  left  alone  settled  them- 
selves was  working  to  a  certain  extent,  but  nothing 
seemed  finally  settled.  His  legislative  career  so  far 
had  not  been  a  failure,  but  that  was  because  one 
cannot  fail  without  unsuccessfully  trying  to  do 
something,  and  all  he  had  tried  to  do  he  had  ac- 
complished. His  speech  had  succeeded,  he  had 
made  no  enemies,  and  he  was  to  have  the  oppor- 
tunity to  try  it  over  again  in  the  senate  if  he  could 
make  it. 

He  had  not  seen  Miss  Marlow  since  the  close  of 
the  legislative  session  in  April.  All  things  consid- 
ered, he  did  not  feel  satisfied  w4th  himself.  Some- 
thing must  be  done,  and  he  decided  to  go  to  Albany. 
When  he  reached  Albany,  instead  of  going  to  the 
club  he  went  straight  to  the  Marlow  house.  As  luck 
would  have  it  Miss  Marlow  was  coming  down  the 
steps,  and  the  stable-man  was  standing  by  the 
horse  hitched  to  her  runabout. 

''I  just  came  up  from  New  York  to  see  you," 
began  Van  Buren,  half  mendaciously,  ''and  I  find 
you  flitting." 

249 


John    Van    Barcn,   Politician 

"Would  you  have  me  stay  in  the  house  on  a  fine 
June  day  like  this  ?  You  may  flit,  too,  if  you  wish, 
as  far  as  the  Country  Club.  I'm  to  pour  tea  this 
afternoon,  and  I'd  much  rather  have  you  than  the 
groom." 

'*  Thank  you  for  the  assurance." 

"  It  isn't  a  matter  of  course  at  all.  Many's  the 
time  I'd  rather  have  the  groom  than  any  man  I 
know.     One  doesn't  have  to  talk  to  the  groom." 

"I,  too,  can  be  silent." 

''  Yes,  but  it  wouldn't  be  natural." 

Miss  Marlow  picked  up  the  reins  and  Van  Buren 
seated  himself  beside  her.  He  sat  silently  watch- 
ing her  face  and  her  hair,  the  set  of  her  teeth,  their 
white  line  disclosed  by  her  mobile  mouth,  and 
the  turn  of  her  wrist,  and  the  way  she  held  her 
whip,  and  the  desire  to  possess  her  came  strong 
upon  him.  All  nature  was  blossoming,  the  buds 
were  open,  the  birds  were  singing;  he  felt  his  blood 
tingling  in  harmony  with  the  sap  that  was  running 
to  the  tips  of  the  tree  leaves.  It  was  nature's  mat- 
ing season.  The  same  physical  action  came  upon 
him.  It  was  the  season  of  youth,  and  why  should 
not  youth  enjoy  the  season,  for  soon  enough  it 
would  be  over  and  he  would  know  them  no  more 
forever.  He  wanted  her.  The  world  was  made 
up  of  them  alone,  the  day  was  a  stage-setting  for 
them  alone,  and  why  should  he  not  tell  her  so  ?  He 
would  tell  her,  but  he  did  not  know  how  to  begin, 
and  without  a  beginning  he  continued  to  sit  silent. 

She  had  driven  up  State  Street  and  through  the 
park  out  to  the  toll-gate,  and  on  to  the  western 
turnpike  that  starts  at  Albany  and  ends  at  Buffalo 

250 


John    Van    Barcn,   Politician 

— a  dreamy,  peaceful  old  road  there  is  no  missing 
or  straying  from.  It  was  laid  down  with  a  ruler 
across  the  map,  regardless  of  grades  or  soil,  wide 
enough  for  four  stage  -  coaches  to  go  abreast, 
and  planked  over  on  one  side  for  heavy  carting, 
to  keep  the  wheels  out  of  the  sand.  Miss  Marlow 
steered  the  horse  to  the  right  to  avoid  bouncing  over 
the  planks. 

''You  have  my  permission  to  talk,"  she  said. 
"You  didn't  take  seriously  what  I  said,  did  you? 
You  haven't  said  a  word  since." 

"I  was  thinking." 

"  Highly  commendable  occupation.  I  do  it,  some- 
times, myself." 

"  But  I  was  thinking  the  same  thing  over  and  over 
again." 

"  Don't  do  that.  Think  of  something  else.  I  do. 
I  have  never  got  over  being  taken,  when  I  was  a 
little  girl,  to  drive  on  the  road  past  the  old  alms- 
house and  seeing  a  poor  crazy  woman  behind  one 
of  the  barred  windows.  I  was  told  she  was  a  mono- 
maniac. I  knew  it  was  something  awful,  though  I 
didn't  know  what  the  word  meant,  and  now  that 
I  know  what  it  means  I  think  it  is  still  more 
awful." 

"But  mine  are  pleasant  thoughts." 

"  I  am  positively  not  going  to  ask  what  they  are. 
When  one  has  thoughts  one  should  do  them  up  in 
a  little  bundle  and  treat  them  like  Bartholomew. 
Don't  you  recall  the  beautiful  verse  about  Bartholo- 
mew?    I  always  liked  such  verses." 

"  Why  not  write  a  few  or  inspire  them  ?" 

"  Prepare  to  be  inspired  and  act  as  amanuensis. 
251 


John    Van    B«fcn,  Politician 

Let  me  know  when  the  inspiration's  voltage  is  high 
enough  and  you  are  ready  to  begin." 

''Why  are  you  always  sarcastic?" 

"  In  the  first  place,  I'm  not.  In  the  second,  it's 
an  inherited  family  failing,  something  like  gout,  only 
not  so  painful.  We  should  cultivate  ancestral  qual- 
ities. Nothing  is  so  comfortable  as  a  friendly  in- 
firmity." 

The  horse  turned  in  from  the  turnpike  to  the 
Country  Club.  The  house  was  an  old  stone  Dutch 
farm-house  with  modem  additions  and  a  veranda. 
The  golf-links  were  between  the  house  and  the  main 
road  and  on  either  side.  From  the  wide  porch  the 
view  stretched  south  a  dozen  miles  to  the  Helder- 
bergs,  and  the  angle  of  vision  was  low  enough  to 
expose  the  blue  Helderberg  hills  and  extend  on  a 
clear  day  to  the  gray  Catskills,  forty  miles  away. 
A  little  ravine  back  of  the  club-house  had  been 
dammed  to  make  a  lake  and  rowing  course  for  a 
half-mile  through  the  pine  woods.  It  was  such  a 
comfort  to  be  in  a  place  like  that  after  New  York 
City  and  the  four  hours  on  the  train. 

Miss  Marlow  entered  the  spacious  room  into  which 
the  first  floor  of  the  old  farm-house  had  been  thrown, 
and  began  her  duties  at  one  of  the  tea-tables  in  front 
of  the  capacious  fireplace  that  burned  whole  cord- 
wood  and  gave  light  enough  in  the  evening  to 
dance  by. 

"My  blessings  go  with  you,"  said  Van  Buren. 
''  I'll  sit  here  awhile  and  look  at  the  hills  and  keep 
on  thinking." 

It  was  too  pleasant  an  afternoon  to  stay  in  the 
house,  and  the  wood  fire  made  the  room  almost  un- 

252 


John   Van    Btiren,  Politician 

comfortably  warm.  The  golf -players  preferred  the 
links,  and  there  was  nobody  to  pour  tea  for  except 
a  few  of  the  older  women,  who  poured  their  own 
tea  when  they  wanted  any  and  mildly  discussed 
one  of  the  prevailing  and  well-bred  scandals  for 
which  Albany  is  noted.  Such  open  social  sores  as 
divorces,  elopements,  and  the  like  are  frowned  upon 
in  Albany  and  never  allowed  among  the  nice  people. 
But  delightfully  half-hidden,  seemly,  and  proper 
scandals  are  always  going  on.  Miss  Marlow  did  not 
care  to  be  one  of  the  scandal-swappers,  and  returned 
to  the  veranda  where  Van  Buren  was  still  sitting. 
He  came  over  to  her  when  he  saw  her  appear  in  the 
doorway. 

"You  must  stop  thinking,  Mr.  Van  Buren.  It's 
almost  discourteous.  Why  don't  you  do  some- 
thing— play  golf  or  row?" 

*'  I'd  like  to  play  Little  Jack  Homer.  I  feel  like 
a  small  child  this  afternoon.  Maybe  it's  the  reflec- 
tion of  your  mood." 

"  Don't  reflect  my  mood.  A  woman  doesn't  want 
a  man  to  reflect  her  mood.  She'd  rather  do  the  re- 
flecting." 

They  sat  on  a  bench  by  the  corner  of  the  porch. 
The  man  who  had  sat  there  before  had  put  his  feet 
on  the  railing  and  tilted  back  the  bench,  and  there 
was  a  half -smoked  cigar  on  the  railing.  Miss  Mar- 
low  noted  that  Van  Buren  was  not  smoking.  His 
thoughts  must  be  persistent  to  have  kept  him  from 
smoking,  she  reflected.  All  at  once  it  flashed  upon 
her  mind  what  those  thoughts  were. 

Miss  Marlow  had  already  received  a  sufficiency 
of  proposals  to  satisfy  the  natural  vanity  of  a  nor- 

253 


John   Van   Burent   Politician 

mal  girl.  The  first  time  she  had  led  the  man  on,  for 
she  was  curious  and  eager  to  make  the  experiment 
of  being  proposed  to,  and  she  almost  became  en- 
gaged to  him,  so  vehement  and  insistent  he  was,  al- 
though she  had  had  no  idea  in  the  world  of  accept- 
ing him  and  only  let  him  go  on  for  the  experience. 
The  next  man  she  seriously  considered,  and  perhaps 
if  he  had  been  persistent  it  might  have  led  to  some- 
thing. But  he  was  not  greatly  in  earnest  and  did 
not  take  his  refusal  to  heart  so  much  as  she  would 
have  liked.  There  had  been  two  others,  but  the 
novelty  had  worn  off,  and  it  was  a  strain  and  some 
effort.  She  had  to  be  friendly  to  them  and  con- 
siderate after  she  had  rejected  them.  In  fact,  she 
felt  that  they  had  put  her  under  some  sort  of  obli- 
gation, and  that  was  an  attitude  she  did  not  care  to 
encourage  in  herself  towards  anybody.  There  would 
have  been  more  than  four,  but  she  did  her  best 
successfully  to  head  off  several  others  who  would 
have  suggested  matrimony  as  a  desirable  partnership 
if  she  had  allowed  it. 

She  told  Van  Buren  to  light  a  cigar  and  smoke, 
and  **you  needn't  feel  obliged  to  say  anything," 
she  added.  "  I  like  to  sit  here  and  watch  the  sky- 
line over  the  tops  of  the  hills.     It  is  restful." 

If  Van  Buren  were  only  more  masterful  and 
would  compel  her  to  marry  him !  She  would  rather 
be  married  and  have  her  own  home  and  her  own  in- 
terests. Her  father  filled  part  of  her  life,  but  that 
was  the  only  real  interest  she  had.  He  was  a  strong, 
compelling  man,  and  she  liked  strength  and  asser- 
tion. The  first  man  that  proposed  to  her,  an  army 
lieutenant,  very  young  and  very  much  in  earnest, 

254 


John    Van    Burcn,  Politician 

and  wholly  impossible,  had  almost  won  her  by  his 
vehement  wooing.  But  Van  Buren  would  never 
do  such  a  thing.  He  was  too  well  bred,  she 
reasoned,  too  over  -  educated  to  compel  her  love 
and  to  take  her  by  storm. 

They  sat  in  silence  for  some  time.  No  one  else 
was  on  the  porch.  The  sounds  from  the  links,  the 
wash  of  the  water  from  the  oars,  the  hum  of  the 
voices  from  the  tea-table  mingled  with  the  murmurs 
of  a  summer  afternoon.  Van  Buren  threw  away 
the  cigar  he  had  lighted  and  leaned  against  the  rail- 
ing watching  Miss  Marlow's  profile,  her  eyes  afar 
off. 

''I  have  a  question  to  ask,"  he  began. 

Miss  Marlow  felt  that  she  knew  what  the  question 
would  be.  She  could  not  for  the  life  of  her  accept  a 
man  who  began  that  way.  She  would  refuse  him 
if  he  kept  on,  yet  she  could  not  help  it. 

"Don't  ask  questions,  Mr.  Van  Buren.  I  never 
answer  them.  Questions  are  all  of  two  kinds,  those 
that  answer  themselves  and  those  that  shouldn't 
be  answered." 

*'  I  fear  I  know  the  answer  to  mine,  and  you  need 
not  answ^er  it.  I  would  not  ask  it  if  I  could  help 
it.     Will  you  marry  me?" 

''Doesn't  that  answer  itself,  Mr.  Van  Buren? 
How  could  I  possibly  say  yes,  even  if  I  wanted  to  ? 
And  I  don't." 

''  If  you  did  want  to  say  yes,  I  shouldn't  have  had 
to  ask." 

There  was  silence  again.  The  sun  would  not  set 
for  an  hour,  but  the  day  was  gone.  The  evening 
clouds  began  to  form  around  the  tops  of  the  Cats- 

25s 


John    Van    Btircnt  Politician 

kills  and  to  draw  a  curtain  over  the  view  back  of 
the  steep  Helderberg  farms.  They  sat  looking  far 
away  over  the  valley  beyond  the  old  turnpike.  A 
club  waiter  began  to  arrange  a  table  on  the  porch 
for  a  party  of  hungry  golfers.  Miss  Mario w  broke 
the  silence. 

''I've  been  neglecting  my  tea-pouring  duties," 
she  said. 

''A  duty  invites  neglect,"  replied  Van  Buren,  a 
little  bitterly.     "No  one  prefers  to  be  dutiful." 

**  I  think  I'd  better  be  taking  you  back  to  town," 
and  Miss  Marlow  had  him  send  for  the  horse  and 
runabout.  "You  are  becoming  cynical.  The  cus- 
tomary virtues  are  good  things  to  have." 

"  Yes,  that  is  why  every  one  advocates  their  use  by 
his  neighbors." 

Miss  Marlow  drove  again  on  the  way  back.  She 
wanted  to  be  alone  as  soon  as  she  could.  Van 
Buren  said  nothing,  and  she  saw  no  reason  for  in- 
venting conversation,  so  they  drove  in  silence.  It 
was  awkward  to  have  a  man  sitting  beside  you  and 
saying  nothing;  but  Miss  Marlow  had  started  him 
from  his  silence  before,  and  this  she  would  not  do 
again.  At  the  Marlow  house  the  groom  was  waiting 
for  the  horse.  He  had  driven  off  before  Miss  Mar- 
low and  Van  Buren  had  reached  the  front  door. 

"  Will  you  come  in  ?"  she  said,  more  through  force 
of  habit  than  for  any  other  reason. 

"  Not  now,  thank  you,"  replied  Van  Buren.  Then, 
squaring  his  shoulders  and  looking  her  straight  in 
the  eyes,  he  added:  "  Let  me  answer  my  own  ques- 
tion. Miss  Marlow.     You  will  marry  me." 


XXIX 

[AN  BUREN  spent  that  summer  like 
a  globule  of  quicksilver  that  has 
dropped  from  a  broken  thermom- 
eter-bulb to  the  floor,  flying  hither 
and  thither  without  definite  purpose, 
now  trying  to  concentrate  his  energies  and  then 
scattering  them  in  a  hundred  fragments.  Such  a 
manner  of  life  was  contrary  to  his  habits  and  his 
traditions.  It  was  decidedly  uncomfortable  and 
opposed  to  that  poise  and  tranquillity  which  he  re- 
garded as  the  end  and  aim  of  life .  He  stayed  a  week  in 
June  with  his  mother  at  Schenectady.  For  her  va- 
cation she  would  drive  over  to  Ballston  Spa,  which 
was  a  watering-place  before  Burgoyne's  surrender, 
and  sit  for  a  fortnight  under  the  spreading  trees  be- 
fore the  old-time  summer  hotel  which  has  been  for 
many  years  a  genteel  club  for  refined,  elderly  ladies 
of  set  habits  and  ancient  recollections.  That  and 
Sharon  Springs  were  the  fashionable  resorts  of  Mrs. 
Van  Buren's  youthful  days,  and  she  liked  them  for 
their  growing  old  with  her  and  fading  away  in  calm 
content.  Usually  Van  Buren  went  to  Bar  Harbor 
while  his  mother  was  at  Ballston,  and  returned  in 
time  to  drive  her  to  Sharon,  where  they  would  sit  on 
the  veranda  of  the  old  Pavilion  Hotel  and  look 
across  the  Mohawk  Valley  to  the  peaks  of  the  Adi- 

257 


John   Van    Btiren,    Politician 

rondacks.  The  Richards  had  a  cottage  in  Cherry 
Valley,  between  Sharon  and  Richfield.  Mrs.  Van 
Buren  would  spend  one  Sunday  with  them,  and 
Mrs.  Richards  would  return  the  visit  from  Saturday 
to  Monday  at  the  Pavilion.  It  was  easier  for  Van 
Buren  to  fall  in  with  the  usual  summer  programme, 
and  he  intended  to  do  so,  but  there  were  several  in- 
terruptions. 

In  the  first  place,  he  did  not  care  to  go  to  Bar 
Harbor,  and  went  to  Saratoga  instead  in  time  for 
the  races.  There  was  little  to  do  there  except  to 
talk  politics  and  go  to  the  races  and  bet,  and  he  lost, 
which  vexed  him,  for  he  did  not  enjoy  parting  with 
money  without  an  approximate  return. 

Mr.  Coulter,  Commissioner  Mahoney,  Assembly- 
man Keegan,  Judge  Murphy,  and  nine- tenths  of 
Van  Buren 's  other  political  friends  spent  their  sum- 
mers in  Saratoga  and  enjoyed  the  racing  and  the 
gambling,  their  only  diversions  from  politics.  Part 
of  his  time  Van  Buren  was  at  Balls  ton  with  his 
mother,  but  he  kept  attendance  on  his  political  lead- 
ers sufficiently  to  satisfy  them  of  his  interest.  Sara- 
toga life  was  distasteful  to  him,  and  as  the  novelty 
wore  off  he  was  with  his  mother  more  and  more, 
and  finally  welcomed  the  transfer  from  Ballston  to 
Sharon. 

They  drove  over  from  Ballston,  with  his  mother's 
maid  and  a  stable-man  their  only  companions, 
starting  soon  after  daylight  and  reaching  the  Mo- 
hawk Valley  road  in  time  for  breakfast ;  then  on  the 
Mohawk  Valley  pike  to  Palatine  Bridge,  and  from 
Palatine  across  the  valley  and  up  the  hills  to  Sharon. 
At  Sharon    his  cousin  Amy  joined  them,  and  he 

258 


John    Van    Barent   Politician 

spent  his  days  driving  Amy  and  his  mother  over  the 
Schoharie  hills  and  valleys. 

One  day,  in  driving  on  the  Otsego  Lake  road  with 
his  mother  and  Amy,  they  met  Miss  Marlow  and  her 
father.  Miss  Marlow  was  driving.  Everybody 
bowed. 

*'  I  didn't  know  you  knew  them,"  Van  Buren  said. 

''We've  always  known  them.  The  Mario ws  have 
a  cottage  on  the  lake,"  Amy  said.  ''  I  think  she  is 
one  of  the  handsomest  girls  I  know.  I  wonder  why 
she  doesn't  marry.  She  gets  lots  of  attention,  but 
she  is  so  wrapped  up  in  her  father  and  politics. 
They've  come  here  for  years,  though  we  haven't 
seen  much  of  them  this  summer." 

''Is  her  mother  with  them?"  asked  Mrs.  Van 
Buren.  "  I  have  not  seen  the  senator  for  a  long 
time,  but  Mrs.  Marlow  takes  an  active  part  in  our 
church  matters.  I  don't  think  I  have  met  the 
daughter  since  she  was  a  child.  She  is  a  handsome 
girl,  and  I  am  glad  to  see  her  devotion  to  her  father." 

Van  Buren  felt  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  say 
something.  "  I  saw  a  good  deal  of  the  senator 
and  Miss  Marlow  during  the  winter.  Her  mother 
doesn't  seem  to  harmonize  so  well." 

Three  evenings  later  he  rode  over  and  found  Miss 
Marlow  and  the  senator  on  their  veranda  overlook- 
ing the  lake.  The  mail  had  just  been  brought  from 
the  country  post-office ;  the  senator  was  looking  over 
the  papers  and  Miss  Marlow  was  reading  her  letters. 

A  groom  took  Van  Buren' s  horse,  and  he  joined 
the  party  on  the  steps  of  the  veranda.  The  senator 
welcomed  him  heartily,  and  Miss  Marlow  was  also 
pleased. 

259 


John    Van    Btircn^    Politician 

''Glad  to  see  you,  Van  Buren.  I  hear  you  are 
going  to  be  nominated  for  the  senate?"  was  the 
senator's  greeting.  "You  have  a  hard  district  to 
run  in.  We  need  you  next  winter.  Let  me  know 
if  I  can  do  anything  to  help  you." 

*' Yes,"  chimed  in  Miss  Marlow,  "you  must  recog- 
nize, Mr.  Van  Buren,  that  the  hopes  of  the  Marlow 
family  centre  on  you."  N 

"Let  us  begin  the  campaign  now."  Van  Buren 
liked  to  hear  Miss  Marlow  talk  politics.  "The  sen- 
ator's advice  won  my  election  to  the  assembly. 
What  has  he  to  advise  now?" 

"  Do  you  think  you  can  divide  the  enemy  again  ?" 
asked  the  senator.  "That  is  good  as  far  as  it 
goes,  but  the  more  territory  an  independent  runs 
over  the  smaller  percentage  of  votes  he  will 
poll." 

"I  think  the  commissioner  will  have  an  inde- 
pendent candidate,  but  that  may  not  be  enough. 
Besides,  I  got  the  benefit  of  some  Mugwump  support 
of  our  President,  but  this  year  there  is  little  to  draw 
a  man  off  from  his  party  allegiance." 

"Well,  there'll  be  a  light  vote,  and  thorough  or- 
ganization does  a  great  deal  in  off  years,"  advised 
the  senator.  "Organization  cannot  reverse  a  pop- 
ular tide,  but  it  can  stir  up  pretty  big  ripples  on  a 
still  surface.  I'd  advise  you  to  spend  most  of  your 
efforts  at  getting  your  own  vote  out.  If  you  poll  as 
many  votes  in  the  senate  district  as  Mr.  Hascott 
did  you'll  win,  and  you  ran  in  your  district  better 
than  he  did." 

"I  wish  you  and  Miss  Marlow  would  come  and 
take  charge  of  my  campaign." 

260 


John    Van    Btirent    Politician 

''We'll  be  in  New  York  a  good  deal  during  the 
fall,"  the  senator  replied. 

Miss  Marlow  took  Van  Buren  rowing  on  the  lake. 
It  was  a  good  opportunity  to  talk  to  her,  but  he 
decided  that  he  had  nothing  to  say  yet.  He  rowed 
idly  near  the  shore,  and  at  a  cool  spot  where  there 
was  plenty  of  shade  he  pulled  in  the  oars  and  sat 
down  on  t\yt  floor  of  the  boat  to  use  the  seat  as  a 
support  for  his  back.  From  her  seat  in  the  stem 
Miss  Marlow  amusedly  watched  these  preparations 
for  his  comfort. 

**  You  are  a  very  self-considerate  man,"  she  began, 
after  waiting  for  him  to  begin.  ''You  should  have 
looked  after  my  comfort  first." 

"  Oh,  you  were  comfortable  already  and  I  wasn't. 
To  him  who  hath  not,  nothing  is  given  unless  he 
takes  it  himself." 

"You  are  so  unblushing  in  your  regard  for  your- 
self. Most  men  take  a  little  pains  to  conceal  or  dis- 
guise it." 

"That's  not  the  way  with  you.  The  less  a  man 
conceals  or  disguises  with  you  the  better  off  he  is. 
My  natural  disposition  is  to  surround  the  sharp  cor- 
ners of  life  with  air-cushions,  but  you  wouldn't  like 
that.  You  would  prefer  the  natural,  savage  man 
with  a  war-club  and  a  tomahawk.  That  is  what  the 
modem  woman  requires  to  balance  her  mental  de- 
velopment, a  primeval  man." 

"Perhaps  the  primeval  man  would  be  a  pleasing 
change  in  some  respects.  Do  you  think  the  modem 
man  is  such  an  all-round  improvement  over  his  an- 
cestors?" 

"Not  over  his  immediate  forbears,  but  his  man- 
261 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

ners  are  an  improvement  on  Cain  and  Noah,  not  to 
mention  others." 

"And  you  don't  think  women  have  advanced  cor- 
respondingly?" 

"  That's  it.  Their  advance  has  been  much  greater 
than  man's — to  the  cost  of  their  own  happiness." 

*'You  mean  that  men  are  much  happier  than 
women?"  Miss  Marlow  was  interested  in  Van 
Buren's  Hne  of  thought. 

•  "  Not  a  bit.  The  modem  woman  destroys  her 
own  natural  happiness,  and  then  takes  it  out  of  the 
man  who  happens  to  be  around.  Down  at  the  bot- 
tom of  her  heart  she  would  rather  have  man  a  good- 
natured,  strong  brute,  but  she  has  educated  him  un- 
til he  declines  to  be  what  she  prefers." 

"Why  not  head  a  crusade  yourself,  Mr.  Van 
Buren?  You  are  good-natured  and  strong  enough. 
Couldn't  you  cultivate  the  rest?" 

"  I  think  I  shall  try,  and  I  don't  know  anybody 
better  to  experiment  on  than  you." 

"  Bravo!  Roused  at  last!  When  will  the  blood- 
shedding  begin?" 

"  Not  on  a  day  like  this — in  a  boat  on  the  lake.  I 
think  I'll  take  you  ashore  and  get  more  political  ad- 
vice from  the  senator.  Between  you  and  him  you 
may  make  something  yet  out  of  this  mass  of  animate 
clay." 


XXX 

|N  September  Van  Buren  returned  to 
New  York  to  conduct  his  senate 
campaign.  There  had  been  no  ques- 
tion as  to  his  nomination,  as  Mr. 
Coulter  told  the  two  other  district 
leaders  that  Van  Buren  was  to  be  the  candidate. 
Normally  the  district  was  strongly  RepubHcan. 
The  Democratic  candidate  for  President  had  carried 
it  the  year  before  with  the  aid  of  Mugwump  votes, 
which  left  a  general  sore  feeling  between  the  Mug- 
wumps and  the  Republican  organization.  The  Re- 
publican senator,  Mr.  Olers,  was  a  candidate  for  re- 
election. He  was  active  in  politics,  and  had  taken 
a  vigorous  interest  in  the  Presidential  campaign, 
denouncing  as  voters  and  kickers  all  the  Mugwumps 
who  would  not  support  the  Republican  Presidential 
candidate.  This  made  it  easier  for  the  commis- 
sioner to  repeat  the  tactics  of  the  year  before. 

Montgomery,  whose  independent  candidacy  for 
the  assembly  had  elected  Van  Buren,  called  a  meet- 
ing of  the  Mugwumps  of  the  three  assembly  districts 
which  composed  the  senate  district,  and  formed 
an  independent  Republican  association  of  the  men 
who  were  opposed  alike  to  Tammany  and  to  the  Re- 
publican machine.  Montgomery  also  interested  the 
society  women  of  Murra}^  Hill  in  the  movement, 
i8  263 


John   Van    Buren,    Politician 

and  its  meetings  became  more  fashionable  than 
their  favorite  charities.  Headquarters  were  opened 
in  a  vacant  house  between  Fifth  and  Madison  ave- 
nues. The  parlor  floor  was  turned  into  a  tea  and 
reception  room,  where  from  four  o'clock  till  seven  a 
committee  of  fashionable  women  poured  out  tea  and 
I\Iugwumpery .  Up-stairs  were  the  men's  committee- 
rooms.  The  women's  committee  circulated  political 
tracts,  and  in  the  course  of  their  other  social  duties 
saw  that  those  tracts  were  generally  distributed  at 
Delmonico's,  Sherry's,  the  Waldorf,  the  Holland 
House,  and  other  restaurants  and  caravanseries  of 
the  district.  These  Mug^^ump  tracts  were  given, 
not  only  to  the  patrons,  but  to  the  waiters,  porters, 
and  cabmen. 

So  popular  did  the  Montgomery  Mugwump  move- 
ment become  that  Senator  Olers'  candidacy  for  re- 
election was  disrupted,  and  Van  Buren  began  to 
fear  that  Montgomery  might  come  in  at  the  head  of 
the  poll.  The  Montgomery  campaign  had  several 
weeks'  start.  Senator  Olers  was  renominated  next 
at  a  Republican  convention  in  Carnegie  Hall,  where 
the  party  battle  -  cries  were  sounded  and  Mug- 
wumpery  denounced.  The  convention  to  nomi- 
nate Van  Buren  was  quietly  held  at  the  club-rooms 
on  Sixth  Avenue.  There  was  as  little  notoriety 
given  to  it  as  possible.  Resolutions  were  adopted 
endorsing  the  Democratic  administration  of  federal 
affairs  and  the  conduct  of  the  Democratic  President, 
and  linking  Van  Buren's  name  with  the  President's 
by  endorsing  Van  Buren's  assembly  career  in  the 
same  resolution. 

Van  Buren  accepted  the  nomination  with  a  very 
264 


John    Van    Barcnt    Politician 

short  speech,  saying  the  district  had  honored  him 
once  and  he  hoped  he  had  not  proved  unworthy. 
While  Olers  and  Montgomery  conducted  an  ora- 
torical and  literature  campaign,  attacking  each 
other  on  the  stump  and  in  the  newspapers.  Van 
Buren's  canvass,  under  the  miasterly  supervision  of 
Commissioner  Mahoney,  was  quiet  and  personal. 
The  Tammany  vote  was  over  one-third  of  the  total 
in  the  district,  and  if  it  could  be  held,  and  the  re- 
maining vote  evenly  divided,  Van  Buren  would  win. 
More  was  at  stake  than  the  one  senator,  for  there 
were  two  Republican  assemblymen  running  for 
re-election,  and  a  new  man  had  been  nominated  to 
succeed  Van  Buren.  The  Mugwumps,  in  reply  to 
the  attacks  of  the  Republican  organization,  had 
nominated  independent  candidates  for  the  assem- 
bly in  all  three  assembly  districts. 

The  situation  made  Van  Buren's  district  the  piv- 
otal fight  for  the  control  of  the  legislature.  In  the 
last  legislature  the  district  returned  one  Republican 
senator,  two  Republican  assemblymen,  and  one 
Democratic  assemblyman.  Van  Buren.  The  re- 
election of  Senator  Marlow  hung  on  the  legislature, 
and  the  result  was  likely  to  be  so  close  that  Van 
Buren's  district  would  decide  it.  The  senator  came 
to  New  York  from  time  to  time  to  consult  with  the 
campaign  managers  and  to  keep  closely  posted  on 
the  situation.  Van  Buren  saw  him  on  the  occa- 
sion of  these  visits,  and  the  senator's  opinion  was 
optimistic.  His  advice  was  to  hold  no  Democratic 
meetings  in  the  district  and  to  make  no  open  fight, 
but  to  encourage  the  general  public  to  believe  that 
the  contest  was  between  the  Republicans  and  the 

265 


John    Van    B«rent    Politician 

independents,  and  especially  to  promote  the  be- 
lief that  the  independent  candidates  stood  a  good 
chance  of  winning,  and  that  votes  cast  for  them 
would  not  be  thrown  away.  The  rolls  of  the  Tam- 
many committees  and  the  poll-lists  of  the  captains 
of  the  election  districts  gave  the  names  of  nine- 
tenths  of  the  Tammany  voters,  all  of  whom  were 
personally  called  upon,  their  prompt  registration 
insisted  on,  and  their  presence  at  the  polls  insured. 
No  attempt  was  made  to  gain  converts,  and  the 
canvass  was  conducted  so  quietly  that  Olers  and 
Montgomery  seemed  to  be  the  only  candidates. 

On  one  of  the  senator's  trips  Miss  Marlow  came 
with  him.  The  senator  was  fond  of  the  theatre, 
and  one  evening  asked  Van  Buren  to  accompany 
him  and  his  daughter.  After  the  play  Van  Buren 
took  them  to  supper.  The  senator  left  the  table 
for  a  few  minutes  to  speak  to  a  group  of  politicians 
at  another  table. 

''You  are  going  to  win,  Mr.  Van  Buren,"  Miss 
Marlow  predicted.  "There  is  a  way  of  feeling  po- 
litical breezes,  and  I  am  a  good  barometer." 

''Your  father's  advice  will  be  responsible  for  it 
if  we  do,"  replied  Van  Buren.  "  He  is  always  help- 
ing us.  My  election  last  year  was  due  to  him. 
Don't  you  think  you  should  begin  to  repay  me  what 
I  owe  him?" 

"Isn't  that  a  little  twisted?  I  did  not  know  I 
was  under  obligations."  Miss  Marlow  was  slightly 
puzzled. 

"The  more  any  one  does  for  you  the  more  you 
are  entitled  to  expect.  I  thought  we  had  settled 
that  a  long  time  ago.     Your  father  is  doing  every- 

266 


John    Van    Barcn,    Politician 

thing  he  can  for  me.  The  only  way  he  can  do  more 
is  to  have  you  do  it." 

''But  I  do  what  I  can  for  him." 

''More  reason  why  you  should  do  more  for  me. 
Don't  think  that  I  forget  my  prophecy.  The 
only  way  to  get  you  to  do  anything  is  to  make 
you." 

"Break  my  stubborn  will?"  She  laughed  un- 
easily. "You  don't  understand  women,  Mr.  Van 
Buren.  We  want  to  be  coaxed  and  persuaded,  not 
clubbed  into  submission." 

"No  man  will  ever  win  you  by  coaxing  and 
wheedling." 

The  senator  came  back  to  the  table  and  the  con- 
versation returned  to  politics. 

The  election  passed  with  little  of  the  vote-buying 
and  none  of  the  repeating  which  were  so  flagrant  in 
Albany,  Cohoes,  and  Troy.  The  Republican  or- 
ganization had  an  idea  that  Van  Buren's  candidacy 
was  not  in  earnest  and  that  there  was  a  secret 
Tammany  deal  to  elect  Montgomery.  They  real- 
ized the  decisive  nature  of  the  fight  for  the  control 
of  the  legislature,  and  took  every  measure  to  cut 
down  the  opposition  vote.  The  district  swarmed 
with  deputy  supervisors  under  the  control  of  the 
Republican  State  superintendent  of  elections.  These 
supervisors  made  up  lists  of  timid  Mugwump  and 
Democratic  voters  and  notified  them  that  their  arrest 
would  follow  an  attempt  to  vote. 

When  Van  Buren  reached  his  polling-place  early 
on  election  day  his  district  captain  told  him  that 
the  State  deputy  supervisor  would  arrest  him,  and 
that  a  list  of  fifteen  others  would  be  arrested  if  they 

267 


John    Van    Burcn^    Politician 

tried  to  vote.  Van  Buren  promptly  went  into  the 
polling-place  and  gave  his  name  and  demanded  his 
tickets.  The  supervisor  told  him  that  if  he  insisted 
on  voting  he  would  be  arrested. 

''Where  is  your  warrant?"  Van  Buren  asked. 
The  deputy  supervisor  had  none. 

"On  what  charge  am  I  to  be  arrested?"  The 
deputy  supervisor  did  not  know.  He  simply  pulled 
out  a  list  from  his  pocket  and  said, 

''Your  name  is  on  this  list,  and  I  am  ordered  not 
to  let  you  or  the  others  vote." 

On  his  insisting,  the  deputy  supervisor  reluctantly 
arrested  him  and  took  him  to  the  Jefferson  Market 
Police  Court,  where  he  was  at  once  discharged. 
The  next  two  men  on  the  list  followed  Van  Buren' s 
example  with  like  results.  The  other  nine  or  ten 
on  the  deputy  supervisor's  list  lingered  around  the 
polling-place  till  they  saw  the  deputy  would  do  as 
he  said,  and  then,  not  caring  to  be  taken  to  the 
station-house  and  the  police  court,  went  away  with- 
out offering  to  vote. 

Although  many  votes  were  lost  by  this  process  of 
intimidation,  the  result  was  not  affected.  To  the 
general  surprise,  Olers  was  the  low  man  in  the  three- 
cornered  fight  and  Van  Buren  first.  Not  only  was 
the  senator  gained,  but  all  three  assembly  districts 
elected  Democratic  assemblymen,  making  a  gain  of 
three  votes  off  and  on,  or  a  gain  of  six  votes  on 
joint  ballot.  The  result  in  the  State  was  close  and 
uncertain.  Definite  official  returns  were  slow  in 
coming  in.  Senator  Marlow  directed  the  canvass 
ever}^ where  through  his  agents,  and  when  the  cer- 
tificates of  election  were  given  out  and  the  official 

268 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

roll  made  up,  not  without  several  contests  in  court, 
the  Democratic  majority  on  joint  ballot  was  two, 
the  three-cornered  fight  on  Murray  Hill  changing 
the  result  and  insuring  Senator  Marlow's  re-election 
barring  defection  or  accident. 


XXXI 

'ITH  Van  Buren's  election  to  the  sen- 
ate his  law  income — it  could  hardly 
be  called  practice  —  took  a  jump. 
All  the  little  corporations  that  had 
consulted  and  retained  him  the  year 
before  came  around  with  larger  checks  and  some 
new  pretext  for  his  services.  Other  concerns  that 
had  not  called  before  sent  officials,  or  through  their 
regular  counsel  threw  needless  little  jobs  in  his  way, 
and  sent  checks.  They  were  always  careful  to  send 
checks,  and  the  services  they  asked  in  return  were 
at  times  atoost  absurdly  disproportionate.  A  few 
of  them  Van  Buren  refused.  Pie  was  willing  to  in- 
crease his  legal  income,  naturally  enough,  and  any- 
thing that  legitimately  came  in  his  way  was  not  to 
be  declined ;  but  he  would  not  take  tips  no  matter 
what  their  size,  and  neither  woidd  he  consent  to 
have  a  check  sent  him  as  a  gratuity  or  purely  as  a 
propitiatory  offering.  It  was  simply  a  matter  of 
personal  comfort  with  him.  He  did  not  believe  he 
could  be  bribed  with  any  sum  of  money  that  any 
corporation  or  interest  could  profitably  afford  to 
offer  for  his  vote.  On  that  score  he  felt  safe.  But 
more  than  this  was  the  greater  consideration  with 
him  that  he  did  not  care  to  permit  any  one  else  to 
think  that  he  could  be  bought. 

270 


John    Van    Barcnt    Politician 

To  Commissioner  Mahoney,  who  by  this  time  had 
become  his  friendly  pohtical  counsellor,  he  men- 
tioned this  influx  of  new  clients  with  retainers. 

"Turn  the  small  ones  down,"  advised  the  com- 
missioner, ''not  unpleasantly,  but  just  because  they 
aren't  big  enough,  and  have  them  understand  it. 
It  will  get  around,  and  you  will  take  in  more  in  your 
aggregate  fees  than  if  you  ran  a  free-for-all  law-office. 
It  isn't  the  amount  of  work  that  a  man  does  that 
makes  a  successful  lawyer,  but  the  money  he  takes 
in.  If  you  are  going  to  stay  in  politics  get  up  your 
own  scheme — a  gas  company  or  a  street  railroad 
or  something  big  and  good.  Be  the  head  of  it  and 
take  all  the  rest  of  us  in.  That's  the  only  way  to 
make  money  out  of  politics.  There  is  nothing  in 
office-holding  except  as  an  experience  and  a  step- 
ping-stone. Treat  politics  the  way  you  would  any 
other  business,  and  get  in  business  for  yourself  as 
soon  as  you  can  instead  of  being  an  employe." 

''I  don't  know  what  the  outcome  will  be,"  re- 
plied Van  Buren.  "  Last  year  I  was  a  new  minority 
assemblyman.  This  year  we  are  in  the  majority, 
but  it  is  so  slim  that  accident  or  death  or  anything 
may  affect  it." 

"A  small  majority  holds  together  better  than  a 
big  one,"  commented  the  commissioner.  **I  have 
known  big  majorities  to  split  with  their  own  weight 
and  go  to  pieces ;  but  with  the  senate  a  tie  and  the 
assembly  only  two  majority,  everybody  will  stand  in 
line  for  self -protection." 

Van  Buren  did  not  care  for  another  winter  at  the 
Delavan.  He  had  learned  that  the  more  powerful 
and   experienced  senators  and   assemblymen'  kept 

271 


John   Van    Burent   Politician 

house.  There  was  a  number  of  these  housekeeping 
parties  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Capitol,  the  two 
best-known  being  called  the  House  of  Lords  and  the 
House  of  Commons.  Seven  senators  lived  in  the 
House  of  Lords,  one  of  the  big,  old-fashioned,  dig- 
nified houses  on  State  Street  that  imparted  some  of 
its  own  individuality  to  its  occupants.  The  sen- 
ators were  of  both  parties  and  controlled  the  senate 
in  business  matters,  somewhat  in  the  way  that  a 
college  fraternity,  although  in  numerical  minority, 
frequently  controls  the  college  politics.  The  House 
of  Commons  included  the  leading  Republicans  of  the 
assembly  who  were  returned  to  the  legislature  so 
often  that  they  had  settled  down  to  a  winter  in  Al- 
bany as  their  regular  vocation.  The  assemblymen 
from  the  cities  were  usually  either  dropped  after  a 
term  or  two  or  became  strong  and  politically  ex- 
perienced enough  to  look  for  something  better, 
while  the  rural  assemblyman  had  as  good  an  office 
as  the  constituency  of  his  county  could  elect  him  to, 
unless  he  widened  out  to  the  surrounding  counties 
and  contested  with  the  sitting  senator  or  congress- 
man. 

Senator  Elling,  of  the  Schenectady  district,  was 
one  of  the  inmates  of  the  House  of  Lords.  Van 
Buren  had  known  him  for  years,  as  of  course  every- 
body in  Schenectady  did.  He  was  a  lawyer  with 
few  local  clients,  and  those  were  people  of  small 
means  whose  fees  amounted  to  little  if  anything. 
His  offixe  was  the  rendezvous  for  all  the  Republican 
farmers  and  district  committeemen  when  they  were 
in  Schenectady,  a  general  meeting-place  and  club- 
room,  with  a  demijohn  in  the  back  room,  a  box  of 

272 


John    Van    Buren,    Politician 

cheap  cigars  in  the  bookcase  drawer  over  the  cup- 
board with  the  demijohn,  a  stove  to  spit  at,  and  a 
circle  of  comfortable  arm-chairs.  Among  the  better 
social  element  in  vSchenectady,  the  college  professors, 
the  clergy,  the  bankers,  and  the  leading  lawyers, 
Senator  Elling  did  not  stand  high.  His  successive 
re-elections  were  secured  by  his  hold  over  the  dele- 
gates from  the  country  towns  and  in  most  of  the 
Schenectady  wards.  Van  Buren  in  his  term  in  the 
assembly  was  surprised  to  learn  that  Elling  was 
one  of  the  strongest  and  most  powerful  men  in  the 
senate.  He  was  chairman  of  the  committee  on 
railroads,  member  of  the  committee  on  finance, 
also  on  miscellaneous  franchises  and  on  general 
laws.  It  was  generally  understood  that  he  had 
more  to  say  and  do  with  business  legislation  than 
any  other  member  of  the  legislature,  and  that,  con- 
trary to  his  custom  in  Schenectady,  he  was  a  high- 
priced,  discriminating  mxan  who  would  not  take  hold 
of  small  and  cheap  jobs  except  as  a  gratuitous  kind- 
ness, but  who  had  to  be  consulted  on  every  matter 
of  magnitude. 

Through  Senator  Elling  Van  Buren  was  invited 
to  become  a  member  of  the  House  of  Lords,  and  he 
gladly  accepted.  It  was  due  to  a  certain,  vanity  on 
the  part  of  Senator  Elling  that  Van  Buren  was  given 
this  opportunity,  as  Elling  wanted  Van  Buren  to  know 
that,  though  he  might  not  be  so  big  in  Schenectady, 
he  was  a  power  in  Albany.  And  then  he  counted 
on  Van  Buren  in  a  way  repaying  in  Schenectady  the 
favors  shown  him  in  Albany.  When  Van  Buren, 
on  his  arrival  home  for  Christmas,  told  his  mother 
his  plans  for  the  winter,  she  criticised,  for  the  first 

273 


John    Van    Btirent    Politician 

time,  his  political  course,  which  would  lead  him  to 
live  in  Albany  with  a  man  v/hose  wife  she  had  never 
called  upon  in  Schenectady.  That  omission  Mrs. 
Van  Buren  remedied  at  once  by  calling  the  next 
day  on  Mrs.  Elling,  who  was  greatly  gratified  and 
knew  not  how  to  account  for  it  until  she  mentioned 
it  to  her  husband,  who  laughed  and  explained. 

*'  The  Van  Burens  may  be  society  swells  here,  but 
in  Albany  I'm  "It,"  and  I  may  as  well  do  the  young 
man  a  good  turn  as  not.  No  harm  in  it;  we  come 
from  the  same  town,  if  he  is  elected  from  a  New 
York  district.'' 

After  his  Christmas  dinner  at  home  and  a  stay 
with  his  mother  over  the  Sunday  following,  long 
enough  to  go  with  her  to  church  and  sit  in  the 
family  pew.  Van  Buren  returned  to  Albany  and 
took  up  his  quarters  in  the  House  of  Lords  for 
the  winter.  All  political  discussion  was  over  the 
fight  for  the  United  States  senatorship,  and  the 
members  of  the  legislature  were  arriving  on  the 
ground  long  in  advance.  The  margin  was  narrow 
and  the  Republicans  by  no  means  gave  up  hope. 
They  were  to  nominate  Darius  Turner,  the  well- 
known  head  of  the  Consolidated  Cotton  Company, 
who  had  vast  wealth  and  desired  to  crown  a  suc- 
cessful business  career  by  the  triumph  of  his  meth- 
ods in  politics  personified  in  himself.  He  had  fur- 
nished the  immense  campaign  fund  which  the  Re- 
publican organization  had  lavishly  disbursed,  and 
if  he  had  had  as  much  experience  in  politics  as  in 
cotton,  or  had  had  a  manager  with  half  Senator  Mar- 
low's  judgment  and  skill,  there  was  little  doubt  that 
the  maj  ority  on  j  oint  ballot  would  have  been  with  him. 

274 


John    Van    Btiren,    Politician 

The  result  of  the  election,  instead  of  being  taken 
by  Mr.  Turner  as  a  defeat,  urged  him  to  stronger 
efforts.  Overtures'  had  been  made  to  friends  of 
every  Democratic  member  of  either  house  to  secure 
the  absence  or  defection  of  three  Democrats.  It 
was  generally  known  that  any  sum,  ten  thousand  dol- 
lars or  more,  would  be  paid  to  an  errant  one.  Such 
large  sums  were  mentioned  that  Senator  Marlow 
was  worried.  For  one  Democrat  to  fail  to  vote  for 
him  would  mean  ruin  to  the  man's  political  future 
and  to  his  social  standing,  whatever  that  might  be, 
but  the  temptation  was  great.  Through  his  inti- 
mate and  delicate  sources  of  information  Senator 
Marlow  kept  posted  as  well  as  he  could  on  what  was 
being  done. 

There  was  a  Democratic  assemblyman  named 
Novek,  from  a  Brooklyn  district,  whose  health  had 
been  faihng  since  Thanksgiving.  During  the  cam- 
paign he  was  hearty  and  vigorous,  but  it  was  not 
long  after  the  closeness  of  the  result  was  known 
that  he  went  to  bed  sick.  According  to  the  news- 
papers he  had  a  hemorrhage  and  symptoms  of  quick 
consumption,  resulting  from  exposure  during  the 
campaign.  His  doctor  forbade  visitors,  but  there 
were  rumors  that  Novek  was  well  enough  to  go  out 
after  dark.  His  party  managers  and  his  district 
leader  had  pounded  in  vain  on  his  door.  Mrs. 
Novek  would  come  to  the  door  herself  and  ask 
them  to  go  away  and  not  disturb  a  dying  man. 
The  doctor  declined  to  go  into  details  about  his 
patient's  condition.  As  a  result,  it  was  the  general 
belief,  in  which  Senator  Marlow  shared,  that  Novek 
would  not  be  present  at  the  balloting  for  United 

275 


John    Van    Burcnt   Politician 

States  senator.  That  left  a  majority  of  only  one,  a 
very  slim  reliance  in  view  of  the  redoubled  efforts 
of  Darius  Turner  and  his  lieutenants. 

The  first  evening  all  the  members  of  the  House  of 
Lords  were  present  at  dinner  there  was  a  general 
discussion  of  the  senatorial  situation.  In  view  of 
the  public  interest  the  members  had  gathered  be- 
fore New -Year's,  although  the  legislature  did  not 
meet  until  the  w^eek  following,  and  Sunday  inter- 
vened. It  seemed  to  Van  Buren  that  Senator  EU- 
ing  knew  a  great  deal  more  about  the  situation  than 
he  disclosed.  The  next  day  Elling  went  to  New 
York  and  returned  a  day  later  in  a  bad  humor.  He 
had  been  drinking,  and  at  dinner  he  drank  still  more. 
The  other  members  of  the  household  went  out  after 
dinner,  leaving  Elling  and  Van  Buren  alone. 

''Your  friend  Senator  Marlow's  beat,"  Elling 
blurted  out,  with  alcoholic  insistence.  "And  when 
I  see  the  kind  of  man  that  blanked  Darius  Turner  is 
I'm  sorry  for  it.  With  all  the  money  he's  throwing 
away  on  suckers,  he  turned  me  down  for  a  little  tw^o 
thousand  dollars  that  I  needed  to  meet  a  note  I  had 
discounted  in  Richards'  bank  for  campaign  ex- 
penses. He  knows  I've  got  to  stand  for  him  with- 
out being  hitched.  I  couldn't  take  to  bed  now  and 
have  bloody  lungs  or  I'd  do  it." 

"You  mean  Novek?"  insinuated  Van  Buren. 
"Isn't  Novek  sick?" 

"Sick?  Sick  as  you  are.  He's  getting  ten  thou- 
sand dollars  and  his  wife  five,  and  the  doctor,  who's 
something  of  a  politician  himself,  is  handling  the 
job  for  another  ten.  There'll  be  more  sick  ones 
next  week,  only  they'll  come  higher;  and  there's 

276 


John    Van    Btiren,   Politician 

Darius  putting  up  for  it  all,  and  he  turns  me  down 
for  a  little  two  thousand  dollars." 

''  It  must  be  a  strain  on  one's  health  with  such 
inducements  floating  around.  I  wonder  how  much 
it  would  be  worth  to  m^e  to  join  the  sick  list. 

"Oh,  you'd  get  fifty  thousand  dollars  easy — and 
think  of  him  turning  me  down  for  my  little  bit." 
Elling  picked  up  his  hat  and  went  out. 

Van  Buren  made  the  rounds  of  the  hotel  lobbies 
listening  to  the  gossip.  The  general  opinion  was 
that  Senator  Marlow  would  lose.  There  was  no 
possibility  of  his  getting  any  Republican  votes; 
Novek's  sickness  was  well  understood,  and  there 
were  rumors  that  a  Buffalo  Democratic  assembly- 
man and  another  from  Albany  were  disturbed 
about  their  health.  The  Albany  assemblyman 
belonged  to  a  local  faction  not  entirely  in  accord 
with  Senator  Marlow,  and  with  three  Democratic 
absentees  Darius  Turner  would  have  a  majority  of 
one.  An  idea  occurred  to  Van  Buren.  He  looked 
up  Elling  and  found  him  in  a  bar-room  on  Beaver 
Street,  where  he  was  drinking  hot  whiskies,  as  he 
explained,  '*  to  warm  a  heart  frozen  b^/  ingratitude." 

"  Come  back  to  the  house,  Elling,  I  want  to  talk 
to  you,"  and  Van  Buren  induced  him  to  get  into  an 
open  sleigh.  Sobering  was  a  frequent  and  speedy 
process  with  Elling,  and  by  the  time  he  had  been 
driven  through  the  park  and  back  to  the  house  he 
was  ready  for  serious  thinking,  although  still  groan- 
ing over  man's  base  ingratitude. 

''  Elling,  you  want  money  and  you  want  to  get 
square,"  exclaimed  Van  Buren,  ''and  I  know  you 
won't  make  an  exhibition  of  yourself  or  me.     Get 

277 


John    Van    Barent    Politician 

matters  in  such  shape  that  I'll  have  the  deciding 
vote.  If  I'm  absent  Darius  wins  and  you  collect. 
If  I'm  present  and  my  vote  elects  Senator  Marlow, 
I'll  see  you  get  five  thousand  dollars  for  your  trouble. 
Don't  ask  any  questions;  I've  reasons  of  my  own." 

"  I'd  like  to  throw  the  old  ingrate,"  replied  Elling, 
"but  what's  the  use  of  a  mean's  doing  things  for  sen- 
timent. I'll  go  down  on  the  night  train  and  tell  old 
Darius  you're  sore  on  Marlow  and  see  what  he'll  give 
me  if  I  get  you  off  the  trolley.  The  old  man  knows 
I  don't  talk  only  to  make  a  breeze,  and  he'll  bite. 
It  '11  be  better  to  play  a  man  like  you  that's  got  a 
game  and  a  grievance  of  his  own  than  a  lot  of  these 
sick  ones  that  may  weaken  on  him." 

"  The  fact  is,  I  have  my  own  reasons  for  wanting 
to  be  the  deciding  vote  in  this  election.  It  is  need- 
less to  say  that  I  am  for  Senator  Marlow,  only  I  have 
my  price,  too.  I  guess  everybody  has  his  price — not 
always,  perhaps,  in  the  same  coin,  but  we  are  all  look- 
ing for  the  right  kind  of  a  bribe." 

"  I  wouldn't  put  it  that  baldly,"  Elling  said,  winc- 
ing. ''The  laborer  is  worthy  of  his  hire.  I  only 
want  what  I'm  entitled  to." 


XXXII 

|AN  BUREN  had  reached  a  crisis  in 
his  life,  but,  as  often  happens  when  a 
man's  rectitude  is  attacked  by  an  in- 
sidious influence,  and  that  in  the  most 
subtle  way  through  his  ambition,  he 
was  not  yet  aware  of  it.  An  overmastering  passion 
had  possessed  him  during  these  last  few  weeks,  and 
he  was  completely  under  its  sway.  He  had  vowed 
to  make  Mary  Marlow  his  wife,  and  then  becoming 
suddenly  confronted  with  the  trick  of  opportunity 
which  a  cynical  fortune  sometimes  plays  for  the 
better  part  of  a  man's  soul,  he  had  yielded  to  the 
impulse  of  temptation  and  entered  on  the  game 
without  a  qualnj.  There  was  no  need  to  juggle  with 
conscience  or  honor,  for  his  blind  passion  had  ren- 
dered him  impervious  to  the  call  of  both.  He 
judged  her  as  ambitious  for  power,  a  woman  quick 
to  admire  political  finesse  and  diplomacy,  with  but 
one  deep  feeling — her  passionate  love  and  devotion 
to  her  father.  He  knew  that  she  was  bent  on  her 
father's  re-election.  He  had  but  to  tell  her  that  the 
deciding  vote  was  in  his  hands,  so  he  argued,  and  to 
exact  her  promise  that  she  would  marry  him  as  the 
price  of  his  vote.  He  scarcely  put  it  to  himself  in 
this  blunt  fashion ;  he  was  not  conscious  of  any  exact 
process  of  reasoning.  He  wanted  her;  she  had  de- 
19  279 


John    Van    BtJfcn,    Politician 

lied  him ;  he  had  said  she  would  marry  him,  and  here 
was  a  way  to  win  her.  With  the  suppression  of  the 
Buffalo  assemblyman  the  situation  was  his  to  com- 
mand. He  had  only  to  threaten  to  absent  himself, 
now  that  he  had  handled  Elling  satisfactorily,  to 
succeed  in  his  plan.  There  was  no  time  left  for 
dallying  or  deliberation;  the  election  was  only  two 
days  off.     He  must  decide  at  once. 

He  called  on  her  the  next  morning  and  found  her 
in  the  little  library.  The  senator  was  down-town  at 
his  law-ofHce  and  Mrs.  Marlow  was  out.  Miss  Mar- 
low  wore  a  house-dress,  cut  away  at  the  neck,  and 
with  sleeves  that  fell  back  from  her  beautiful,  bare 
arms  as  she  raised  them.  Her  hair  was  piled  high 
in  a  pyramid  coil,  held  in  place  by  one  long  pin. 
There  was  a  fire  in  the  grate,  and  the  crackling  wood 
was  the  only  sound  in  the  room. 

Miss  Marlow  did  not  rise  when  Van  Buren  came 
in  nor  turn  her  eyes  from  the  fire.  Her  head  rested 
on  her  hand,  and  the  sleeve  had  fallen  fromi  her  arm, 
with  the  long  veins  showing  from  the  wrist  to  the 
elbow.  Back  of  her  ear  was  a  loose  tendril  of  hair 
straying  to  the  marble  of  her  shoulder.  That  imp- 
ish tendril  was  at  once  the  undoing  of  Van  Buren's 
purpose  and  his  ultimate  salvation.  He  leaned 
over  and  kissed  her  on  the  neck  where  the  stray 
tendril  curled  temptingly.  She  did  not  move.  The 
blood  rushed  to  the  spot  he  had  kissed  like  a  fierce 
blush.  He  put  his  arms  around  her,  and,  turning 
her  face  to  his,  he  kissed  her  full  on  the  lips. 

"Dearest,"  he  whispered. 

As  her  head  lay  on  his  shoulder  his  arm  brushed 
away  the  curled  pin  which  held  her  hair  in  place  and 

280 


John    Van    Burcn,    Politician 

it  fell  rippling  and  tumbling  in  long  waves  reaching 
to  the  floor,  lit  with  gleams,  and  made  iridescent  by 
the  flames  from  the  fire  and  reflecting  its  glory  in 
Van  Buren's  eyes.  He  kissed  her  hair  and  her  eye- 
brows and  her  wrists  and  her  arms.  Pie  ran  his 
fingers  through  her  hair  and  pressed  his  lips  to  the 
flowing  strands  again  and  again.  The  long  pin  had 
fallen  on  the  floor,  and  he  picked  it  up  and  restored 
it  to  her  without  a  word. 

Miss  Mario w  had  said  nothing.  Van  Buren's 
passionate  onslaught  had  come  unexpectedly  and 
passed  like  a  summer  thunder-storm.  She  rose  and 
twisted  her  hair  quickly  into  a  rough  coil  and  pinned 
it  together  again. 

Van  Buren  stood  before  her,  trembling  with  the 
vehemence  of  his  passion  and  fascinated  by  her 
beauty. 

"  Dearest,"  he  pleaded,  "  I  want  you.  I  love  you. 
I  could  lose  my  soul  for  you." 

She  turned  and  faced  him.  It  was  her  turn  now 
to  look  him  straight  in  the  eyes. 

''John,"  she  said,  in  a  low,  even  voice  that  thrilled 
with  a  new  tenderness  which  made  him  glad,  '*  I  do 
not  want  you  to  lose  your  soul  for  me.  I  need  you, 
but  if  you  would  help  me  it  must  be  with  all  your 
strength  and  soul."  There  was  mingled  pride  and 
pity  in  her  compassionate  glance. 

At  her  words  he  stood  transfixed.  Had  she  guess- 
ed? Could  she  know?  The  object  of  his  visit  had 
been  swept  from  his  mind  at  the  first  sight  of  her, 
but  now  it  was  recalled  with  a  shock  that  brought 
the  blood  to  his  head  and  overwhelmed  him  with 
shame  as  he  saw  himself  for  what  he  was.     A  mist 

281 


John    Van    Btircn,    Politician 

covered  his  eyes,  and  his  brain  grew  dizzy.     He  saw 
her  put  out  her  hands  to  him — she  was  speaking — 

**Not  yet.  Wait!"  he  exclaimed,  hoarsely,  as  he 
raised  his  hand  as  if  to  stay  her.  The  next  moment 
he  had  left  her  and  rushed  into  the  street. 


XXXIII 

|§^;§^gf  AN  Buren's  first  thought  was  for  Ell- 
ing.  He  had  no  doubt  that  Elling 
I  would  accomphsh  his  errand,  though 
it  was  a  question  whether  Turner 
m  would  not  buy  a  few  additional  Demo- 
crats as  a  matter  of  safety.     Elling  reported  success. 

"The  old  man  would  rather  be  flammed  than 
treated  honestly,"  Elling  protested.  "He'll  give 
me  any  amount  of  money  to  buy  up  Democrats 
without  troubling  himself  about  the  rake-off  of  a 
few  thousand  I  may  make;  and  then  when  I  treat 
him  on  the  level  and  ask  for  a  bona  fide  loan  he'll 
turn  it  down.  Our  Buffalo  friend  is  already  fixed, 
but  the  Albany  gent  comes  high  and  they'll  let  him 
drop.  That  doesn't  exactly  give  you  the  deciding 
vote,  but  if  you  do  vote  it's  a  tie." 

Van  Buren  went  to  the  official  reception  given  by 
the  governor  at  the  executive  chambers,  but  he 
omitted  the  Artillery  Ball  and  the  reception  at  the 
executive  mansion. 

At  the  organization  of  the  legislature  everybody 
was  present  except  Novek,  but  the  Buffalo  Demo- 
crat who  had  been  bought  on  the  senatorship  ap- 
peared and  voted  with  his  party,  making  Assem- 
blyman Peters  speaker.  In  the  senate  the  vote  for 
president  was  a  tie.     Senator  Marlow  had  arranged 

283 


John   Van    Barcn,    Politician 

a  little  deal  with  Senator  Thompson,  a  Republican 
from  one  of  the  interior  districts,  by  which  Thomp- 
son's brother-in-law  was  elected  chief  clerk  and  the 
Democrats  took  the  other  clerkships,  the  sergeant- 
at-arms,  and  the  rest  of  the  senate  patronage. 
Thompson  would  not  vote  for  a  Democrat  for  presi- 
dent pro  tern.,  but  offered  any  time  the  Democrats 
wanted  to  break  the  tie  to  vote  for  himself  and  let 
the  Dem.ocrats  elect  him  president. 

After  the  organization  of  the  two  houses  the  first 
business  was  the  balloting  for  United  States  senator. 
The  assembly  met  under  the  papier-mache  ceiling 
and  the  senate  in  its  onyx  chamber,  and  they  bal- 
loted separately. 

Senator  Thompson  voted  for  Turner  with  his 
party,  and  the  vote  was  sixteen  for  Turner  and  six- 
teen for  Marlow.  In  the  assembly  Novek  was  still 
absent,  and  the  Buffalo  assemblyman  was  also  ab- 
sent. That  morning  Buffalo  newspapers  had  printed 
the  story  that  while  running  to  catch  a  car  in  front 
of  his  house  the  Buffalo  assemblyman  slipped  on  the 
ice  and  broke  the  ligaments  of  his  ankle  so  that  he 
could  not  walk.  The  doctor  reported  that  it  would 
not  be  safe  for  him  to  go  to  Albany  for  several  days. 
The  vote  in  the  assembly  was  sixty-three  Marlow 
to  sixty-three  Turner. 

The  vote  in  the  senate  and  assembly  being  a  tie, 
it  became  necessary  for  both  houses  to  meet  in  joint 
convention  at  noon  the  next  day  to  vote  again  by 
joint  ballot.  The  balloting  w^as  likely  to  continue 
from  day  to  day. 

When  the  "extras"  came  out  that  afternoon  an- 
nouncing the  result  Van  Buren  was  in  no  enviable 

284 


John    Van    Btiren,    Politician 

state  of  mind.  The  casting  of  his  vote  had  made  a 
tie,  and  so  far  had  saved  the  day  for  Senator  Mar- 
low,  but  he  ground  his  teeth  when  he  thought  of  the 
part  he  had  played  in  inducing  Elling  to  withhold 
the  Buffalo  assemblyman.  He  felt  that  he  had 
been  saved  from  making  a  terrible  mistake,  just 
what  he  could  scarcely  conceive  yet ;  but  he  also  felt 
that  something  more  was  expected  of  him;  some- 
thing must  be  done  or  he  would  lose  her  altogether 
— now,  when  he  knew  she  loved  him,  and  he  had 
forfeited  his  right  to  claim  her  honorably. 

Hour  after  hour  that  night  he  paced  the  floor  of 
his  room  and  cursed  himself  for  a  fool.  Despair 
seemed  to  take  hold  of  him. 

All  at  once  an  idea  struck  him,  and  its  first  effect 
brought  such  sudden  relief  that  he  burst  out  laugh- 
ing. 

Immediately  he  sought  out  his  friend.  Assem- 
blyman Keegan,  at  the  Delavan.  He  knew  that 
Novek  had  been  given  up  and  that  Senator  Marlow 
was  relying  on  breaking  the  tie  by  bringing  on  the 
Buffalonian  in  a  few  days.  But  that  was  uncertain, 
and  for  that  Van  Buren  would  be  entitled  to  no 
credit. 

Keegan  was  at  the  Delavan,  and  as  soon  as  Van 
Buren  stated  his  plan  the  two  started  at  once  for 
New  York.  It  was  evening  when  they  arrived. 
Keegan  had  telegraphed  for  two  of  his  friends,  one 
of  whom  was  Judge  Murphy,  to  meet  him  at  the 
station  with  a  hack,  and  the  party  started  for  the 
Twenty- third  Street  Ferry.  Keegan  took  the  reins, 
the  other  friend  sat  beside  him  on  the  box,  and  Van 
Buren  and  the  judge  sat  inside. 

285 


John    Van    Barcnt    Politician 

"You're  a  bom  politician,"  said  the  judge,  com- 
plimenting Van  Buren  when  the  scheme  was  ex- 
plained. "  I  know  that  Novek.  He'll  be  scared  to 
breathe.     I  like  a  job  like  this." 

Novek  lived  in  a  modest  two-story  frame  house. 
His  wife  answered  the  door  when  the  judge  rang  the 
bell  about  ten  o'clock.     She  knew  Judge  Murphy. 

''You  can't  come  in,  judge,"  she  said.  "I'm 
sorry,  but  my  husband  just  had  another  hemorrhage 
and  the  girl  went  for  the  doctor.  .  The  reporters 
have  been  calling  all  the  evening." 

"  Excuse  me,  Mrs.  Novek,"  replied  Murphy.  "  I'm 
sorry  for  any  man  that's  having  hemorrhages,  and 
as  a  friend  of  his  I'm  goin'  to  take  him  to  one  of  those 
sanitariums  where  he'll  get  cured." 

Leaving  the  horses  and  hack  standing,  Van  Buren 
and  Keegan  followed  Murphy  into  the  house.  Mrs. 
Novek  started  to  scream.  Van  Buren  produced  a 
clean  handkerchief  and  Keegan  put  it  in  Mrs.  No- 
vek's  mouth.  In  the  mean  time  Murphy  and  Van 
Buren  went  up-stairs  and  found  Novek  in  bed  smok- 
ing and  reading  the  papers,  with  a  bottle  of  whiskey 
on  the  chair  beside  the  bed. 

"Come  along,  Pete,"  said  the  judge.  "Put  on 
your  clothes  and  take  a  drive  with  us.  Fresh  air 
does  hemorrhages  a  lot  of  good." 

Novek  began  to  swear.  The  judge  took  him  by 
the  arm,  saying,  "Get  up  and  dress."  FooHshly 
losing  his  temper,  Novek  struck  Murphy  in  the  eye. 
Murphy  slapped  him  with  one  open  hand  and  then 
the  other  until  his  face  was  red,  holding  him  alter- 
nately by  one  or  the  other  ear.  Novek  struggled 
to  get  loose  and  hit  Murphy  again. 

286 


John    Van    Biircnt    Politician 

**  You're  losing  your  temper,  Pete,  and  getting 
nasty,"  Murphy  chided  him.  "What  we're  doing 
is  for  your  own  good,  and  to  keep  you  from  being  a 
Judas  Iscariot  and  putting  the  brand  of  traitor  on 
your  innocent  children." 

His  own  emotion  affected  Murphy  so  keenly  that 
he  kicked  Novek  a  few  more  times  while  his  friends 
looked  solemnly  on.  Novek  was  quickly  dressed 
and  taken  to  the  hack.  Mrs.  Novek  was  ungagged 
and  assured  that  there  was  nothing  to  be  afraid  of. 
The  party  drove  to  the  Grand  Central  Station. 
Several  times  they  stopped  for  drinks,  the  judge 
imbibing  his  favorite  champagne,  Keegan  taking 
only  mineral  waters. 

A  state-room  had  been  reserved  in  the  Albany 
sleeping-car.  When  the  party  got  into  the  Grand 
Central  Station  Novek  tried  to  break  away  and 
caused  a  disturbance.  Several  policeman  and  the 
station  detective  appeared,  but  one  of  them  knew 
Van  Buren  and  they  all  knew  Keegan  and  Judge 
Murphy,  with  the  result  that  they  kept  the  crowd 
away  and  helped  to  put  Novek  in  the  state-room. 

Here  Judge  Murphy  lectured  him  again.  *'Now, 
Pete,  be  good.  I  don't  like  your  company  much, 
but  you  stay  with  me  till  you've  voted  for  Daniel 
Marlow  for  senator.  And,  Pete,  if  you  don't  do  it, 
my  friends  here  will  take  you  out  on  the  Hudson  and 
drop  you  through  a  hole  in  the  ice,  and  it  won't  be 
the  first  one  either." 

Novek  cowered  in  the  lower  berth  where  he  had 
been  put.  They  took  turns  watching  him  during 
the  night,  and  kept  the  curtains  pulled  back  to  be 
sure  he  didn't  try  to  get  out  through  the  window. 

287 


John    Van    Burent    Politician 

From  the  train  they  hustled  him  over  to  Keegan's 
room  in  the  Delavan,  and  from  there  to  the  speaker's 
room  in  the  Capitol  where  Speaker  Peters  adminis- 
tered the  oath  of  office  to  him. 

The  two  houses  of  the  legislature  met  at  noon  in 
joint  convention  to  ballot  for  United  States  senator. 
The  roll  of  State  senators  was  called  first,  and  every 
one  was  present  and  voted,  Van  Buren  answering, 
"Daniel  Marlow."  The  roll  of  the  assembly  began. 
The  efforts  to  bring  on  the  Buffalo  assemblyman 
had  failed,  and  the  reporters  and  the  large  audience 
anticipated  a  tie  in  the  vote.  The  clerk  slowly  called 
the  roll,  each  member  as  his  name  was  called  rising 
and  saying,  if  he  was  a  Democrat,  ''  Daniel  Marlow," 
or  if  he  was  a  Republican,  "Darius  Turner." 

When  the  M's  were  being  called  Van  Buren  went 
into  the  speaker's  private  room  back  of  the  speak- 
er's chair.  The  clerk  called,  "Mr.  Novek."  No 
answer  was  expected,  and  the  clerk  was  going  on  to 
"Mr.  Nowell,"  when  Van  Buren  and  Keegan  ap- 
peared, each  having  Novek  by  an  arm,  and,  half 
carrying  him,  stood  in  front  of  the  clerk's  desk. 

"Novek  votes  for  Daniel  Marlow,"  announced 
Keegan. 

"How  does  Mr.  Novek  vote?"  inquired  the  lieu- 
tenant-governor. 

"  Say  Daniel  Marlow  or  you'll  never  see  your  wife 
again,"  Keegan  hissed  in  his  ear. 

"Daniel  Marlow,"  Novek  murmured. 

"The  gentleman  votes  for  Daniel  Marlow,"  an- 
nounced the  lieutenant-governor. 

The  shouts,  the  cheers,  and  the  enthusiasm  almost 
drowned  the  remaining  call  of  the  roll.     The  vote 

288 


John    Van  Btircn,*' Politician 

was:  Daniel  Marlow,  sixteen  senators,  sixty -four 
assemblymen,  total,  eighty;  Darius  Turner,  sixteen 
senators,  sixty -three  assemblymen,  total,  seventy- 
nine. 

''  Daniel  ]\Iarlow  is  hereby  declared  duly  elected 
senator  of  the  United  States  for  the  State  of  New 
York  for  the  term  of  six  years  from  the  4th  of  March 
next,"  announced  the  lieutenant-governor. 


That  evening  Van  Buren  went  to  Miss  Marlow *s 
house.  He  found  her  already  in  the  parlor  await- 
ing him. 

"  Six  months  ago,"  he  said,  after  their  greeting, 
"  I  said  you  would  some  day  marry  me.  As  a  poli- 
tician you  will  perhaps  admit  I  have  conquered,  but 
as  a  prophet — " 

"You  are  victorious  also,"  said  Miss  Marlow, 
smiling  and  giving  him  her  hands. 


THE    END 


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